


Skating the Stars into Sight

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: There's a legend among the figure skaters that if you're the very best and stand out, the stars themselves will take you away to the heavens to skate out the constellations. Yuuri is discovered by one of the stars...





	1. Chapter 1

The spot was out of the way; no one around to see the young man skating. It was a performance worthy of an audience; the way he moved and danced on the ice, hands reaching out as to clasp the hands of invisible partners. His blades created patterns, deliberate etchings that remained after he moved to a new spot to skate another dance. It was obvious his skates were well-maintained and judging by how skinny he was and how threadbare his clothing was, it was where all his money went. 

With each new jump and spin, it was clear the story being told - the emotions and motions and dance were so clear that if he had the audience he deserved, they would be in tears from the feelings that flowed out with each fluid movement. 

Yuri had seen enough; it was  _ wrong _ to have this talent hidden among tiny ponds in areas that was devoid of most human life; it was an  _ absolute waste  _ to have this person skating to nothing more than the sound of the ice shifting underneath his blades and the few birds that weren’t tucked away in warm nests. He glanced up at the sky, seeing the trail of stars that had given him the pathway here and the one that would bring  _ this _ one to a place that would give him what he deserved. 

_ If I don’t take him, I’ll get bitched at for wasting talent and letting it rot away when mortality catches up with it.  _  Even if he whined and complained like some of the skaters, he was at least going to be in a better place than this. Yuri huffed out an annoyed breath and skated out onto the ice, smirking when the skater stared at him with wide, astonished eyes at his sudden appearance. 

Yuri didn’t want to waste any time, he didn’t want to explain  _ here _ and run the risk of losing his chance, or the skater running off. It was much easier to give an explanation when there was no way out and no escape. That was how it was done with him, after all--  _ and after the shitty life I had, I didn’t want to run back to where I came.  _

“You’re coming with me,” he grabbed the man’s wrist and before the startled protest made it past his lips, they were gone from the isolated pond, the only sign of their passing was the patterns that the man had been carving into the ice. 

~

Yuri was glad to be away from the earth; he didn’t fit there any longer and it was no longer his home. He stared at their newest...member, for lack of a better term. He still looked as dazed as when Yuri first showed up and he stared down at the enormous rink they were standing in front of. It was only their practice area; they didn’t just let anyone, as good of a skater as they were or not, creating the constellations without making sure they actually could  _ do _ it. 

_ There were other jobs for those that couldn’t manage it or kicked up too much of a fuss.  _  They could never go back  _ home _ , but at least they wouldn’t have the problems they had in the beginning, with an angry skater trying to erase the work of all those that came before them. He never had a problem with any of the ones he brought it and he didn’t think he’d have a problem with this skater, either. 

“You ever see anything like it?” He knew that there wasn’t anything like it on the Earth. The ice was a deep blue-black, glittering with silver and gold from the earlier tracks that other skaters had taken, glittering like the psuedo-stars they were. Yuri watched the young man’s expression. There was longing there and need and he was already stepping forward, but he stumbled on his skates. Yuri grabbed onto his arm and steadied him. “Don’t try going out  _ now _ ,” he huffed. “Don’t you have any questions?”

The other turned to look at him, tilting his head, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on his face. “If I asked where I was, would you even give me an answer?” he asked. “You grabbed me without warning, so I don’t think you’re really the sharing type.” 

“If I told you what was going to happen, would you have believed me if I didn’t show you?” Yuri shot back. “You’re human, you’ve got limited brain cells for this sort of thing.”

“Hey!” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “I can take in a lot, you know and I’ve seen a lot of weird things.” He was quiet for a moment and looked back at the rink. “There are always stories about the heavens and the stars and the people that live there. You look like a star, are you one of the gods?”

Yuri stared at him, incredulous for a moment, before he started to laugh. “Me? One of those pretentious assholes? Who do you think I work for, idiot?” he snapped. “Not that they ever show themselves, but no, I’m not one of them. I’m one of the skaters-- and you are too, now.”

“...a skater?” There seemed to be another question coming, but the other shook his head and held out his hand. “Let’s go back a few steps, since you didn’t even do the basics before you snatched me away from home. My name is Yuuri Katsuki. What’s yours?”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Yuri groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. “You’re really--” He sighed. “Yuri Plisetsky,” he said slowly, a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth. “Guess it won’t be hard to remember each other’s names.” 

“No,” Yuuri shook his head and looked back toward the ice. “A skater, huh?” he asked softly. “Can I skate there?” He pointed to the arena. “It looks so much bigger than I ever dreamed a place could be.” His expression was wistful. “Is this a dream?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure it’s not, but when I’m staring at something that looks like the sky at night, it’s hard to believe it’s real.”

“It’s not a dream, idiot,” Yuri huffed. “Please don’t tell me that you’re going to be one of those types, constantly thinking it’s a dream you’ll wake up from. You go on that path and you won’t be skating the stars, you’ll be retrieving the raw materials or tending to the birds.”

At the mention of birds, Yuuri’s expression lit up. “They’re real?” he asked. “The magpies that create the bridge for the lovers?” 

Yuri stared at him and then shrugged. “Yeah, nice couple, but they cry a lot at being always separated,” he dismissed the two lovers with a wave of his hand. “You won’t be seeing them unless you screw up.” His narrowed in on Yuuri. “I’ve been watching you skate for awhile. You--” he looked away for a moment, feeling his cheeks heat up. “You really enjoy it, even if no one’s watching you.”

Yuuri gave him a sly look. “You were watching me,” he teased. 

“You didn’t know that!” Yuri protested, face turning a deeper red color. “All of us watch the skaters up here,” he huffed. “We only take the best to create the patterns in the stars.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t think you had my undivided attention of something, there were other skaters that I looked at, too.”

“And you chose me?” Yuuri looked bewildered at that and pulled away slightly, expression searching for something to sit on. It was a  _ rink,  _ there had to be benches or something around, even if it wasn’t a normal sort of rink.  He half-collapsed on one of the benches and Yuri watched him carefully. This wasn’t the shock of finding out that they weren’t on earth anymore and there was no accusation in Yuuri’s eyes. The very best of the skaters heard stories about the celestial skaters, but it was more of a myth or an incentive to reach the highest pinnacle of skating. 

“Yes, I chose you,” Yuri crossed his arms over his chest. “You were the best one that I saw. You didn’t just skate because made you or it was expected of you. You skated for yourself and--” he shrugged, hunching his shoulders a little. “You have fun and even here--we’re a small group, but we’re a family and we... we all enjoy skating.” 

“A family?” Yuuri smiled a little up at him. “Do they look after you?” he asked. “It must be hard, being so young and doing-- well,” he made a face. “I’m not exactly sure what it is that you do, except that you skate. I can’t imagine what you mean by skating the patterns in the sky.”

“Trust me, I’m not the youngest,” Yuri smirked. “That would be you at this time. I’ve been around longer than you can imagine, I was just kidnapped at an earlier age than you.” He gave him a wide grin. “They just noticed how much better I was than anyone older than me.” 

Yuuri looked a little horrified at the word  _ kidnapping _ , but Yuri just shrugged it off. “Trust me, this is much better than what I had there,” he said shortly, “and it’s been a long time. This is my home, I have my family here and I can do what I enjoy.” He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. There weren’t many of them that truly enjoyed embracing their role, but the ones that did were say to create the pathways so bright, that even the humans could see the pictures with ease. 

“So you can’t go back?” Yuuri bit his lip. “That’s hard,” he said, “leaving it all behind.” 

Yuri stared at him, wondering if he was being dense on purpose or if he was just dragging him along. “Stupid, you’re in the same situation. You’re not going back down there, either.” He rolled his eyes. “If you manage to set up a decent set of stars in the arena there, that’s what you’ll be doing for the rest of your life.”

“...and how long is that?” Yuuri asked, looking a little more concerned and more focused now, as if he had starting to think that this really wasn’t a dream, but was still holding onto the possibility of it being nothing more than a figment of imagination. 

Yuri hesitated a moment and then sighed. Sugar-coating it wouldn’t make the truth any less shocking. “Whenever the gods decide to replace you or the world ends,” he shrugged, making it sound as casual as possible. 

“But humans don’t live that long,” Yuuri looked nervous and his voice trembled a little at the words he got out. “If they want me to skate ...skate out the stars,” he couldn’t keep the note of incredulity from his voice and his hands started to shake. Yuri watched him, annoyed that this kid was starting to act like all the others, pushing away that he had a similar reaction ages ago. “It won’t be for very long, right?” he asked. 

“Don’t be completely idiotic,” Yuri tried to be patient about it. “No matter if you completely fuck up or you do what I know you can actually do, you’re not going to be human any longer.” There was a short window in which someone could go back to the earth and live a normal life, but Yuri wasn’t about tell Yuuri that. It pissed him off that someone that skated that good did it all alone. Even if people on earth couldn’t see the skating, there were those  _ here _ that could and the proof of his skating would be written in the stars. 

Yuuri took a deep breath and stared down at his skates, meticulously maintained, obviously trying to find a focus to steady himself with. “There has to be a catch,” he said finally. “You don’t just offer someone immortality and endless time to do something that they  _ love _ without there being a catch somewhere.”

Yuri sighed and sat down next to Yuuri, not looking at him, letting his gaze settle over the rink itself.  “You know, most people think that being kidnapped and forced to skate for the skies is enough of a punishment,” he offered. “You can’t go back to any family or friends, you can’t stay away from the heavens for long, Yuuri.” His tone was unusually serious. “The only times we really go is when we’re trying to find new skaters.”

“I thought you couldn’t die, why do you need new skaters?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow at him. He was at least asking the right sort of questions now and while his hands still trembled, he wasn’t looking as if he wanted to run off. 

“There are ways for stars to die,” Yuri’s voice was quiet, “and that’s what they call us, because of what we do and sometimes...some of the skaters hurt too much and they give up and fall and stop skating.” He hunched his shoulders slightly and Yuuri reached out hesitantly. They didn’t even know each other, beyond that they both were skaters, but Yuri probably had known some of those skaters and he  _ had _ said that this was his family. “It’s not all that common, though,” he waved it off quickly, not wanting to look vulnerable. “The sky is vast and there are a lot of spots to decorate the space with,” he gave him a faint, mocking smile. “You’re going to be skating more than you ever had in your life, Yuuri Katsuki. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Why, you going to stick around to make sure that I don’t trip on my skates?” Yuuri lifted his gaze finally and it was no surprise when it settled back on the rink. It was devoid of any skaters; everyone knew that someone new was coming and while they’d all be  _ watching,  _ they weren’t going to skate. 

_ All so damn nosy, _ Yuri huffed to himself, pulling Yuuri to his feet and supporting him to the entrance of the ice itself. They both paused to breath in the scent of the air and for Yuri, it was  _ home _ . This was where he always came back to. “I hope so, since I’m going to be the one training you in creating the constellations. Now--” He gave a gentle push; having Yuuri clock it on the ice wasn’t something he wanted to start off with. “Show me what you can do.”

Yuuri looked at Yuri in confusion for a moment, flushing. “I-- I’ve never skated on anything like this before-- what if I...”

“What? You think you’re going to break the rink?” Yuri rolled his eyes and gave another shove, this one less gentle than before. “I just want to see you  _ skate _ , Yuuri and not on some backwoods frozen piece of pond, either.” He pointed out onto the large expanse that was waiting for him. “You asked about the catch in all this? There is no getting out of this, so get started with it now.”

Yuuri nodded slowly and rubbed at his eyes, skating out across the ice in sure, practiced strokes, not noticing the silver streaks that appeared in his wake. It wasn’t the same thing he had been skating earlier, but it was almost more delicate in its movements. He moved as if he were dancing across the ice and his eyes were closed, shutting out the creation he was making. 

Yuri jumped when arms dropped against his shoulders and he batted at the familiar grip. “We could probably put that pattern out now,” Mila’s voice was cheerful as she took in the sight. “You found quite a good skater there, Yura.” 

“Get off me, hag,” Yuri growled. “I was worried the idiot was going to die before I got him here. He was skating in the middle of nowhere and if he hadn’t been skating so hard, he probably would have frozen to death.”

“Well, that’s good,” her voice was matter of fact. “They won’t find a body, but they probably won’t question if they don’t see him again, if he has anyone that’s looking for him, that is.” She patted his head. “You always like finding the loners like yourself, Yura.”

Yuri nudged her away, eyes trained on the constellations that Yuuri created with each new turn and spin. “Easier that way,” he muttered. “Less whining involved if the life that you’ve left behind is completely worthless.” 

“One of these days, you should ask first,” Mila scolded him, but she was smiling as she leaned against him. “Some of us didn’t have completely horrible lives; some of us left behind people that we loved a great deal.”

“Yeah, yeah-- I know,” Yuri skated out onto the ice, ignoring any follow up to that question. Yuuri had finished skating and was standing in the middle of a rink that shone with silver and gold, shooting stars etched across in vibrant patterns from each jump, tight clusters of stars that stood out from spins. It was everything that was expected and more. Yuri found himself smiling up at Yuuri. It didn’t matter if there was something on earth that he left behind. With a show like this, there was no way that the gods would ever let him leave the skies. 

~

 


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri stared at the track that his skates made on the rink, eyes wide. “Are you sure that was all me?” he asked, looking more uncertain and unsteady now that he wasn’t out on the ice, skating out his emotions. The rink was practically glowing with the patterns that Yuuri had set and Yuri smirked faintly.

“Did you see anyone else out there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.. “This was _your_ test, idiot and what you see is what you did. If you could pull the same trick on the earth as you did up here, then all your rinks would look like this. I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while to make sure this wasn’t a stupid choice I was making.”

“...glad I didn’t tarnish your expectations?” Yuuri asked dryly. He looked a little less nervous, but his gaze flickered all around, never settling on one spot. 

“You didn’t do a lot of jumps, though,” Yuri observed, giving him a critical one over, “but the ones you did do, you didn’t have any problems with. Why didn’t you do more? I know you can.” He gave one of Yuuri’s legs an impersonal squeeze. “You have the muscles for it.”

Yuuri squeaked and moved away, Yuri just snickered at his shy response. He became serious after a moment. “Come on-- I can make the judgment, but I can’t make the actual change. You can’t stay human for any longer and remain here, Yuuri. You have to become a star.”

“I thought I was skating the stars?” Yuuri teased, but he had that tone in his voice that said he was still slightly disbelieving of it all, but Yuri was willing to let it slide for just a little; Yuuri was still human, even if he skated a portion of the sky in that rink. “Whatever you put into the ice did make it beautiful. I never saw what my skating looked like before...”

“We didn’t do anything except make the patterns visible,” Yuri waved that away. “Now, remove the blades from your boots if you can and let’s get going. The sooner that human part of you is burned away, the easier it’ll be to get through everything else.”

Yuuri paused in his task and stared up at Yuri, voice faltering. “That’s not just a turn of phrase, is it?” he asked, 

Yuri shook his head, expression solemn. “No, Yuuri, it’s not just a phrase. There is always a price to pay and ... “ he shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable and seemed ready to elaborate, when another person came into view, pouting at the two of them. 

“Yura, you’re not trying to scare the newest star, are you?” she asked, leaning heavily against Yuri. “I leave for a moment to let Minako know that he passed and here you are, making him all shaky and scared about what’s going to happen. It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Get off of me!” Yuri swatted and ducked out of her laughing hold. “It is that bad, he’s still human and you might not remember, you hag, but it’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

Yuuri finished removing his boots, standing there awkwardly. “I...I didn’t expect anything like this to be easy,” he said slowly, “because nothing with skating ever is. It isn’t worth it if you haven’t sacrificed something to get the results you want.”

Yuri gave him an approving look, but he still shook his head in amusement. “Oh, you’re going to get along fine with Minako,” he snorted. “She's all about hard work and pushing yourself and beauty is pain.” He huffed and dragged Yuuri along, who only protested at the speed since he wasn’t wearing any shoes. 

“And our little Yura works the hardest of us all,” Mila laughed, helping Yuuri along. He was distracted, looking around at the dark expanse of sky that lined the walkway. Everything was open and cold and Yuuri shivered as his breath steamed out. The coat he was wearing wasn’t adequate with his human blood. 

Yuri looked back and sighed, resting a hand on Yuuri’s, filling his body with warmth from his own blood. “You can see why humans don’t last here without being ...changed,” he said carefully. Even with his help, Yuuri was shivering almost violently. The warmth he had generated from skating was draining away quickly. 

“You both look human,” Yuuri flicked his gaze up to Mila, who just patted his head and gave him more than the burst of warmth that Yuri had, keeping in contact with him the entire time. 

“This is the shape that we took when the stars burned away our human selves,” she said cheerfully. “There’s a saying that humans are made from the same stuff as stars and that’s mostly true. What’s going to happen is going to preserve the image that that you hold now, but only keep the stardust.”

“And fill you with fire, don’t forget that part,” Yuri smirked over his shoulder, stopping in front of a door. “Stars are ever-burning.”

Yuuri took a deep breath and nodded, pushing his glasses up his face and even those were old and worn and Yuuri was squinting through them. “I guess...” he said doubtfully. It wasn’t something he ever thought about and even in his wildest dreams, did he ever imagine himself in the context of stars, except to watch them when he skated at night. 

MIla gave him a sympathetic hug. “You’ll see, Yuuri,” she pushed him toward the open door, where only more darkness waited. “Here, hand me your coat and glasses, you won’t need those afterward.” It was incredibly warm inside and Yuuri felt his anxiety skyrocket. 

“Wait-- I haven’t even-- I didn’t even agree--I mean, don’t I get a choice?” he asked. 

Yuri gave him a bland look. “Do you want to stop skating?” he asked simply. “If you say you don’t want this, you’ll still have the humanity burned away from you, but you’ll never skate again.”

Yuuri paled at the thought of stopping what he had done his entire life and he glanced backwards towards the rink, thinking back to the carpet of stars that Yuri said his skating had created. “No, I don’t want to quit,” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and took another step towards the door. Once his feet had crossed the threshold, it slammed shut behind him.

Yuri and Mila exchanged a look with each other. Yuuri would either survive this or he wouldn’t-- Yuri thought he would and he wanted to see what Yuuri would be like and what he would create with nothing to hold him back.

~

When Yuuri finally emerged, his eyes were wide and shocked and he shook like a leaf in the wind. “I...” his voice came out in a squeak and without warning, he slumped against the wall, sliding down and wrapping his arms around his legs. “I don’t feel... I feel--- everything feels weird,” he stuttered. 

Mila patted his shoulder and sat down next to him. “It’s going to feel that way for awhile,” she said. “But at least you’re not cold anymore!” she chirped, all smiles. “Isn’t that a plus?”

Yuuri gave a short laugh and held out his hands. Everything felt too hot, like was burning up from the inside and he didn’t know how to shut it off. “No, I’m not cold,” he said softly. He didn’t know if he could move again, but it was more than just heat inside, it was restless energy and a need to do something with it. He wasn’t sure he _could_ do anything with it, though-- it felt like even his bones were melting and he didn’t know what it would be like to skate when everything hurt so much that even breathing felt like sparks were catching hold inside his chest. 

“You can’t just sit there all day,” Yuri stood over the two of them, arms crossed over his chest and looking uncomfortable. “The sooner you train you body to deal with it, the easier it’ll be in the long run. Minako’s waiting, she said that she’s going to be the one to train your body to make stars.”

Yuuri gave him a bewildered look. “What’s the difference?” he asked blankly. He was rubbing his ears, as if something was bothering them. He stared down at his hands a moment later and Yuri tried to figure out where he was going with it all.

“What do you mean, what’s the difference?” he asked. “Like with skating? Minako will teach you the dances that you’ll turn into skating, I’m going to train you to create stars with your skates....and one day, you’ll teach somebody _you’ve_ kidnapped the same routine.” 

“No-- I mean, we create stars, but you said we are stars?” Yuuri asked.

Mila laughed and ruffled his hair. “Yes and no...we’re a type of star or rather, we’re infused with raw star matter. Stardust and fire and the bits and pieces that stars come from. Humans were created with the first stars that fell to earth and so we’re the conduits to create new stars. It’s easier to just call us stars, though.”

“You’re not human anymore, leave it at that,” Yuri said firmly, holding on a hand for Yuuri to hold onto. “We create patterns in the sky from the stars that are inside us. Always and and always, which is why we hardly ever stop skating when we first become stars.”

“And Yuri just skates because he can’t step away from it,” Mila laughed, “even if he’s been doing this for centuries.” 

Yuuri blinked down at her, he’d accepted Yuri’s hand, but Mila was still stretched out, looking as if she wasn’t planning on moving for awhile. “You mean, you want to stop skating?” he asked in confusion.

“You won’t have the same limitations as a human,” Yuri said reluctantly, “but you’re spinning stars from yourself, idiot. That takes work and energy and you’re nothing _but_ energy now--” He supported Yuuri when he staggered. “And even energy needs to rest.”

“I still think that we need to have a welcoming party,” Mila pouted from her spot on the floor. “Now that it’s all official that Yuuri’s become one of the actual skaters, we should celebrate and he can meet everyone!”

Yuuri paled a little at that and shook his head. “I-- I don’t-- I don’t deal with a lot of people,” he muttered. “I never really did,” he clasped his hands together, looking embarrassed. The idea of it being about him made his stomach twist and turn; apparently stars could still get nervous and his hands clenched tighter. The fire that started along his fingertips and raced up his arm was new and Yuuri would have panicked if he didn’t feel as if some of that energy the boiled up inside of him was released and he actually felt _calmer._

“He needs to sleep first and then we can introduce him to everyone,” Yuri huffed. “Not that everyone is even _here_ , they’re all out on their own assignments, skating in different parts of the universe. Yuuri’s going to be sticking close because he’s new and he has to _learn_.” Privately, he already wanted Yuuri to be assigned to this corner of the universe; he’d seen something in Yuuri that he hadn’t seen in a skater in a long time.

“And here I thought you were going to drag him to Minako and force him to start right away,” Mila smirked. “You big softie, you--” 

“Shut up, hag,” Yuri snapped. “Don’t go planning any parties, he’ll meet the people that live around here eventually and not in some big, overwhelming pile.” His tone was acidic with Mila, but he guided Yuuri along with a careful touch. “We’ll get him settled in first so that he doesn’t run when he finally gets his first assignment.”

Mila’s grin was wicked as she waved them off. “Teach him how to create little stars, Yura. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the lesson.” When he sputtered at the insinuation, she just laughed. “And don’t hog him all to yourself. It’s not that often we get new skaters and we’re all family here.” Her smile was more real and simple for Yuuri. “I look forward to learning all about him.”

Yuuri gave her an uncertain smile and a wave back and let Yuri lead him down a different hallway. His ears were ringing and the room seemed to sway and twist around him. He was still wearing the clothes that Yuri had found him in, minus his coat and glasses and he realized that Mila was right; he didn’t need either of them. Still, everyone was too bright and sharp and he wanted nothing more than to -- he wasn’t sure, exactly.

Yuri was giving him a concerned look as they moved along the hallways, part understanding. They had all gone through something like this; none of them had started out this way. Yuuri just hoped he’d adjust soon.

 _What if they think I’m not good enough for this? What if I take too long to become whatever that fire made me?_ It was hard to settle on the images that burned like fire behind his eyelids, but he remembered breathing in something that sparked and burned and filled his lungs with ash and fire. There had been a sensation of his bones melting like candle wax and then everything had gone fuzzy after that. 

The sparks were ever present, as was the music that sang in his mind when he took too deep of a breath and there was no way to block out something that wasn’t coming from an outside source. It wasn’t even unpleasant, but it was unexpected and overwhelming and Yuuri was trying to keep from crying from how much it all was. 

“It does get better,” Yuri said as they walked outside and they seemed to be surrounded by the stars, walking along a pathway that glowed with its own light, lights hanging in the sky in a mimicry of streetlights. It was almost normal looking, as if it was trying to emulate the earth below while still being completely above it. “As long as you skate and create and travel, you won’t feel as if you’re breathe the dust from the stars.”

“...how do you live up here?” Yuuri asked, once he caught his breath enough to do so. The further they walked along, the more the environment became seemingly normal. There were homes that nestled among spiral staircases that wound up and up, higher than Yuuri could believe; there were skeletal trees and the expanse around them turned to frozen fields, thick with snow and planes of ice that cracked and sparkled from the lights all around them. 

“In homes,” Yuri gave him a strange look, but the question could be considered normal, since everything about this new life was completely different from whatever life that Yuuri had left. “We don’t work and we don’t age or die or starve, like humans do. We skate the stories the gods want us to tell and there’s a few of us that can hear the music the stars want us to listen to and create stories from that.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened at the mention of music. The sharp and bright melody that wound around his bones and his nerves, causing his fingers to spark-- it was _real_ and if he wasn’t so tired, he’d demand to go back to the rink and skate it out. He wasn’t even sure if it was allowed now. They walked up one of the spiral staircases, woven out of what looked like crystalline ice and Yuuri’s fingers trailed over the carvings. 

Yuri either didn’t notice or decided not to remark on the way Yuuri’s fingers created more flames that circled around his skin, and continued to talk about the music. “One of my friends hears the music, but he blends it together to create new songs and plays it in a form that all of us can hear and skate to, instead of just a few.” He pushed open the door of the home that they walked up. Yuuri was startled when he heard an insistent meow and the soft thumping of something hitting the floor and then running towards them.

Yuri’s expression changed completely and he knelt on the floor, welcoming the fluffy, cream-colored cat into his arms. “This is Potya,” he said happily and the cat seemed just as happy to see him, nuzzling his face and purring. 

“He’s a real cat?” Yuuri asked, kneeling down next to the two of them, holding out a hesitant hand for Potya to sniff. 

Yuri nodded and stroked along his fur. “Yeah-- I mean, mostly. He’s immortal now, but he’s a real cat. I... Um...” His ears turned red as he got up, Potya gave an more insistent meow as Yuri headed to the kitchen. “As long as he stays up here, nothing will hurt him. He still needs to eat, though.”

Yuuri had to laugh. “Even immortal cats are always hungry?”

Yuri snorted and set down a bowl of chopped meat in front of Potya. “I can’t change that sort of thing about cats,” he laughed faintly. “I..I found him during one trip to the earth. He was starving,” his voice was suddenly defensive, even thought Yuuri hadn’t said anything about it. “I had to bring him home.”

Yuuri nodded in understanding. “I had a puppy growing up, when I still lived at home,” he rubbed at his arms, creating pinpricks of sparks that hovered in the air for a moment, before turning to gray ash. “I would have done the same thing.”

Yuri opened his mouth to ask why exactly, Yuuri wasn’t living at home. However, if he wasn’t going to let Mila pry at Yuuri, he wasn’t going to either. Yet-- maybe when Yuuri wasn’t so exhausted. It had been a long time, but looking at Yuri reminded him of the exhaustive toll that the change the stars wrought on a body. The human body completely burned away until there was only an imprint left of the human that had once been.

“Go get some sleep,” he said instead, pointing towards his bedroom. “You’ll need it to recover and then you’re going straight to Minako’s so that she can assess what you can do and what she should train you on. Even if you can already skate, this is different. They get the requests straight from the gods and we have to skate those to perfection.” Potya curled around his ankles, encouraging him. “You’ll get to meet Otabek and a few others that work with the skaters.”

“They...they won’t expect me to create right away, will they?” Yuuri asked, looking young and vulnerable, the sparks dimming in his eyes as his body tried to shut down towards sleep now that he realized he was in a safe place to do so. 

“No, but they won’t wait long, either,” Yuri shrugged. “Why do you think we grab already talented skaters?” he asked. “It’d be a waste to take someone that was still finding their feet and was uncertain of where to go.” 

“Makes sense,” Yuri yawned and swayed on his feet. He looked ready to sleep where he stood, rather than make the effort to take Yuri’s bed. “Alright-- I guess until...later?” he asked. 

Yuri nodded quickly. “Yeah-- once you wake up, the real work will begin.”

Yuuri’s smile was shy and sweet. “You really are a nice person, Yuri Plisetsky,” he let his hand linger on the doorframe, even when Yuri began to stutter protests. “I can’t wait to see what type of skater you are, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [the Hobbem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Thehobbem/pseuds/Thehobbem) for all her wonderful suggestions and letting me babble at her whilst this chapter was written.

Yuuri woke up slowly, confused and a little disoriented; he wasn’t sure where he was and what the unfamiliar weight on his chest was. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking at the cat that was curled up in a fluffy ball and the vibrations of her purr made it difficult to want to get up. He closed his eyes again.  _ I can’t move the cat.. That’s just rude...it would be better to just fall asleep again.  _ He was half-convinced he was already asleep and dreaming. The little he could see of the room was enough to see that it wasn’t his and the memories of skating stars into the ice seemed more fantastical than could be properly explained. 

A noise outside the room disturbed the cat and his easy excuse and a moment later, the door was pushed open to reveal the boy that had kidnapped him yesterday. “.... you’re still asleep?” he asked and his expression was annoyed. “Get up, come on- you can’t sleep all day. You have to meet Minako and Otabek and a few others so that you can start getting lessons.”

Yuuri sat up slowly, reaching for glasses that he realized that he didn’t actually need to see. He wanted to say  _ are you sure _ . He wanted to ask  _ this really isn’t a dream, is it? _ but based on Yuri’s reactions from yesterday, trying to palm it off as something dreamlike wouldn’t sit well with him. For all that he was a mythical skater for the stars, he seemed like a person that had little to no patience with people that hid from what they were expected to do. 

He petted the cat-- Potya, he remembered, absently and got to his feet slowly. He still felt like fire was burning in his veins, like if he breathed, smoke would come from his breath and choke the air. Now that he was up, he was restless and with Yuri’s intense stare burning into him, he could nothing but fidget. 

“Yeah, you need it,” Yuri muttered, running a hand through his hair, before tossing something at Yuri with his other hand. “Your boots. We removed the blades from them and you may walk a little funny, but at least you’ll have some sort of shoe on.” Yuuri winced at the idea of abusing his skates like that. Not like they were the best, but--

“You’ll get new ones,” Yuri’s expression softened slightly. “I know it doesn’t mean a lot, because those are  _ your _ skates, but … “ he shrugged. “You’re a skater, you can tell when you have good and then when you have  _ great _ skates and trust me,” he grinned all of a sudden. He looked like the kid he had been taken as, before he became a star. “You’re really gonna love the skates they give us. Nothing on the earth can compare to them.”

Yuuri laughed and moved forward, ruffling Yuri’s hair, ignoring the indignant yelp for doing so. “I’m not that sentimental,” he said, “and as long as I’ll have something new and I can keep these…” He wanted them as a reminder of his past; he had a feeling that being a star was going to be much different than than a human and he didn’t want to ever forget where he started from. 

“Yeah, yeah-- you can keep whatever you want, including your old clothes.” HIs nose wrinkled. “You’ll be getting new clothes, too--” he pushed Yuuri out the door ahead of him, not even pausing at the small kitchen. “But now’s not the time. Put on the boots and get out the door. Minako can’t wait forever for you and she has to assess you at some point before she goes over the dances needed for the working skaters.”

Yuuri flushed as he tied up his boots, hiding his face. He didn’t want to feel as if they were making an extra concession for him; he wanted to be doing what he was supposed to be doing already. If he was picked because he knew how to skate, then why wait? He had to have said something like that out loud, because Yuri smacked him upside the head lightly. 

“You know how to skate as a  _ human _ , not as a star, as you sure as shit don’t know the routines and dances and music needed to create the constellations the gods require of us.” He gave him a sardonic look. “There are a  _ lot _ of different gods with a lot of different requests of what they want.” 

Yuuri nodded because that was the expected response, but what if he forever remained behind? What if Yuri had been wrong and he was just meant to be an ordinary skater and not one that was meant to skate across the sky? He bit his lip and sat on the thoughts. He would prove to himself that he could do anything they could do. He knew there was no going back to the earth, so he would instead have to work harder than he ever had before so that he could continue skating.

~

Minako observed the newest skater, hands on her hips. “You danced before you skated,” she stated, her tone matter of fact. “I can see it in the way you stand.”

Yuuri nodded, face warning a little. “Yeah…” he said slowly. “When I was a kid, I would follow my sister to her ballet lessons and imitate the students.” He squirmed, embarrassed to admit it. “It took a few months before the teacher noticed me and started correcting my form.”

“Yet you still ended up being a skater in the end, hm?” she asked. “Well, at least I won't have to start from scratch with you. Get up against the barre and let me see what you can do.” She turned to Yuri and pointed a finger to the door. “I know you want to watch your newest acquisition, but I have my own plans for you. There's a new routine to learn from a special commission from the gods and they've chosen  _ you _ to skate it.” When Yuri looked ready to protest, she scowled. “I'm not going to damage him,” she said, exasperated. “Just work him to a puddle and see what he's capable of.”

Yuuri blinked at the matter of fact statement and then started to smile a little. “You remind me of my first ballet teacher,” he said shyly. “She was fierce, too and wanted to make sure she got everything out of me. She lectured me for a week when I said I wanted to skate instead of dance.”

“You're gonna love Minako, then,” Yuri muttered, but left after one more concerned look at Yuuri. “I'll be back later and make sure she hasn't burned you out.”

Minako rolled her eyes once they were alone. “He's being dramatic,” she muttered. “I haven't burned out a star yet.” She gave Yuuri another assessing look. “Now, let's burn off some of that energy inside and see what you can do with it.”

“Is that what it is?” he asked, taking it for a literal statement and after what had happened yesterday, he didn’t think he was far off the mark. Even if the details of everything was still fuzzy and the normality of waking up in a house and going to a ballet studio, he instinctively felt the difference in his body. 

She nodded and tapped his back to get him to straighten in. “Yeah-- you went straight to sleep because going from human to star is not something that your mind can take lightly. It’s going to take you awhile to realize you don’t have the same limitations, while learning new ones. One thing is that you will  _ have _ to skate or dance to burn off the energy that will build up inside you, or else you’re going to burn out.” 

“I hope I’m going to get time to adjust,” he muttered, contradicting his earlier words to be able to do everything  _ now _ . “I still don’t think I fully understand how much has changed. I… I feel different.”  _ That _ was an understatement; even if he looked the same, he could feel the difference in the way he breathed and moved; the way his eyes moved over the landscape, how if he concentrated, he could create fire from the sparks that seemed to live inside his fingertips. “But I don’t know all of what it means.” 

Her expression softened at the lost look he gave her and she had to remind herself that despite all appearances, he was younger than Yuri or some of the other skaters; they had been doing this for decades on end. He would soon reach that stage, where humanity was more of the dream than the shape of the stars, but it would take time and discipline and concentrating on what his body could do now. 

“Well, you’ll get there,” she said briskly, clapping her hands together. “First, let’s get to work.”

~

Yuri found Yuuri hours later, looking actually refreshed and happy from the grueling practice that Minako had put him through.  _ Could be because he doesn’t have all the energy built up anymore, too _ . He vaguely remembered what it was like at the beginning. All the potential and fresh energy and the need to push it out somewhere. Minako had been his teacher, then--she always worked with the newest stars and judged their abilities to see what they could do. He stayed with her for awhile; he had studied some dance, but only enough to get the flexibility and form that he needed. 

He could already tell Yuuri was different in that respect; Minako had lit up when she saw him and he wouldn’t have spent so much time in her studio if he hadn’t been someone worth teaching. 

He flopped down next to Yuuri, closing his eyes. “You look  _ relaxed _ ,” he huffed. “I can’t wait to you graduate these training sessions and learn the more complicated routines. Then you won’t be smiling after a day of dance.”

Yuuri grinned at him. “It felt like home,” he confessed. “I practically grew up in a ballet studio until I switched to skating and Minako is a lot like my first teacher.” He stretched his arms out, practically bending backwards and he continued the stretch. “I also don’t feel like my veins are on fire anymore.”

“Oh, they still are,” Yuri’s tone was innocent as he patted Yuuri’s arm. “Just you’ve managed to expel the majority of the excess energy, so it’s not bothering you at the moment.” He shrugged. “That’ll change-- it’s one of the reasons we always skate.” His gaze was far away for a moment. “We skate because we love it and that’s why we’re here, but-- we also skate because our entire self has been rewritten to skate the stars from the fire inside ourselves.”

“I hope I can skate soon,” Yuuri said softly. “I don’t want to be stuck behind everyone else.” 

“Trust me, you aren’t,” Yuri snorted and stood up, dusting off his palms. “Speaking of the others, do you want to meet some of the other skaters? There’s a few of us around and they’re all damn noisy about wanting to meet the newest one.” He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. “Especially since I was the one to find you. They’ve been teasing me for ages that I’d never find a skater that I thought was good enough.”

Yuuri flushed and followed Yuri, a little surprised at the offhand praise. “I… I still don’t know how you chose me. I mean, I wasn’t even skating near anybody; I haven’t been to any of the competitions …”

“Yeah, because you’re not from a country that even has them,” Yuri waved that excuse off. “Jeez, if we plucked everyone from the competitions, we wouldn’t have the skaters that came before  _ me _ .”

Yuuri blinked at that, staring at him in confusion. “Just how long have you been a skater, Yuri?” he asked. “You look young, but…” he already knew that appearances meant nothing here. 

“On earth or here?” Yuri shot back, a smirk tilting up the edge of his smile. “It was after the first World Skating Championship that I got chosen for here.” He kept up a brisk walk as he explained. “I was chosen to represent my country and I had gotten the top place.” His hands went to his chest, where a medal might have hung. “There was some… debate about my placement and well,” he shrugged. “People are assholes, but I didn’t have to deal with them much longer before Otabek recruited me.”

“When was that?” Yuuri asked. “I… I mean, in Japan-- we’re not even official or anything. We read the papers and all that and I know that there were some big competitions, but --” he shrugged. “There isn’t enough of people in Japan that banded together for the big organizations to recognize us.”

“Give it time,” Yuri advised. “If enough people figure out the rules, then Japan will get there eventually.” He tilted his head at the first question, considering it. “I… it’s been so long, it’s hard to remember, but… somewhere before the turn of the century, I think. What year is it now?”

“... 1925,” Yuuri said cautiously. 

“Mm…. then it’s been…” he paused he spotted someone and his entire expression lit up as he practically ran to the other person. “Otabek!” He jerked to a stop in front of them. Otabek smiled at Yuri and then looked over at Yuuri. 

“This must be the newest skater,” he held out a hand and Yuuri blinked, confused at it and instead bowed. Otabek didn’t even pause as he returned the bow. “What is your name?”

“Yuuri,” he said and Otabek raised an eyebrow over at Yuri. 

“I know you better than that, but please don’t tell me you chose him based on his name,” he said, but his tone was entirely teasing. “I know you have high standards, but, really now--” 

“I did not chose him because of his name!” Yuri protested. “He was skating in the middle of nowhere and Japan doesn’t even recognize figure skating yet and still he was doing jumps and spins dancing across the ice--” he huffed and crossed his arms against his chest. “I wasn’t going to wait around for Japan to finally start doing something about it.” 

“Otabek is a skater, but he mostly makes our music for the skating. He’s one of the ones that can hear it and translate it so that we can skate to it.” Yuri beamed. “He’s realllly cool, you know?” he asked. 

Yuuri nodded, but he didn’t know anyone except Mila and Minako and Yuri and even then, he couldn’t really form many judgements except Minako was a fierce instructor and Yuri was nicer than his aggravated words would give credence to. “I hear some music,” he offered instead, tilting his head. “I mean, before I came here-- I’d skate to whatever was in my head, even if it didn’t make any sense.” 

“That will make skating easier,” Otabek agreed. “There aren’t many that can hear music; I should introduce you to Leo as well; he works with me sometimes.” He patted Yuri on the shoulder. “Yuri does well with the music I create, though.” He grinned all of a sudden. “Even does some skating that that burns off the energy without being commissioned.” 

“Because it’s fun,” Yuri muttered, “and you do the best combinations.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Say, Otabek-- what year on Earth was it that you found me? I can’t remember, but Yuri says it’s 1925 now…” 

“1896, Yura,” Otabek said easily. “The first World Figure Skating Championship. You were in St. Petersburg for them and after all the scuffle with a sixteen year old winning, it was easy to get you away.” 

Yuri nodded. “I remembered  _ what _ happened, but not when it happened,” he wrinkled his nose. “It’s been so long and Earth time moves so  _ slowly… _ ” he turned to Yuuri and grinned at his wide-eyed look of shock. 

“Yeah, it’s only been about thirty earth years,” Yuri mused. He made a face. “Ugh, I’d be a wrinkly old man on earth if I stayed there and wouldn’t be skating anymore. What a horrible life.” 

“...that’s just really weird,” Yuuri made a face. “That you’ve been skating up here for a long time, but only thirty years have passed by.” Yuri had been a star before Yuri had been born and it was odd to think of, especially when he was faced with a seemingly teenage Yuri that had been skating for centuries.

“You’ll get used to it,” Otabek smiled. “It’s a different sort of life up here, Yuuri. It’s not like time rushes past here, but …” he shrugged. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s part of the reason most of us don’t go back down to where people knew us before for years, when we’re just a coincidental face if we run into anyone that knew of us.” 

“Well, that won’t be a problem with me,” Yuuri shrugged. “I don’t have any family and I only skated for them and my friends. I wasn’t famous at all.” 

“Well, at least you’re among people that will appreciate you,” Yuri tried to diffuse the sudden heavy atmosphere. “Otabek, when you get the chance, you have to come to the practice rink to see Yuuri skate.” He smirked faintly. “I found him first and you know I wouldn’t go for anyone but the best.”

“Hmm… we’ll have to see about arranging competitions again, now that we have new skaters, too,” Otabek mused. “Everyone has a lot of fun at those and it just burns off a lot of steam.”

Yuuri’s eyes went wide at the idea of having one of his dreams come true, on top of the one that already happened. Being able to skate without boundaries was fantastic enough, but he had always wanted to skate against others, to see what they could do and measure up against them. 

“The judges are pretty harsh,” Yuri smirked, “but it makes it all the more fun. Hurry up and get up to par, Yuuri. I want to see what you can do, more than just the pre-set patterns the gods set up for us.”

“First, I have to make it that far,” Yuuri protested. It was amazing that someone that barely knew him had so much faith in him; he couldn’t disappoint someone that was already so talented and looked at him as if he were someone work skating with and against. 

“You’ll get there,” Yuri promised. “Between the dance teachers and  _ my _ instruction, you’ll be one of the top skaters in no time.”

~

Yuuri panted as he finished the run through of the routine that was supposed to go up soon; the gods had wanted something more finicky than they had before and this one was going “well before your time, but people will always think it was there” so he had to get it absolutely right. 

He was no longer the newest skater; he had been skating for… well, he couldn’t remember for how long, really. Just that time had passed and he skated and danced and learned how to work with the music that Leo and Otabek said was perfect for him. They didn’t often have to create new music, but he worked with them as often as he did with Yuri to create the songs for the routines. They had a way of playing it so that when he was skating, other people could hear what sort of song the stars gave him. 

“Jeez, all these years and you’re still wimping out on jumps.” Yuuri turned to see Yuri smirking at him, leaning over the railing of the rink. “Come on, get it together. You can do more than just that,” he waved a hand at the spiraling marks that signaled jumps. “I’ve been practicing making some of my jobs into quads.” 

“... can you even  _ do  _ that?” Yuuri asked doubtfully. “Even we have limits,” he skated towards the barrier to relax. While he no longer had the overwhelming peaks of energy he did when he first started and he still stored more than others, even he could get tired and need to refresh himself so that he didn’t do anything embarrassing like risk burning himself out during  _ practice.  _

“Yes, stupid,” Yuri smirked and skated out to show him. “I bet even humans could do it, even if it’ll take them time to figure out how not to break an ankle or their legs.” Yuuri winced at the image; he had stumbled and fallen as a kid during single jumps and it took effort and time to build up to triples. “Just watch me.” Even though Yuuri had moved past training, Yuri was still always there for him, goading him to do more than he thought he could do. 

Yuuri was all too glad to lean back and watch; Yuri was still a sight to behold on the ice and even after over a century of knowing him and seeing what he could do, he still managed to pull out the stop and push himself higher and higher. When he was doing his jumps, it was very literal in the department. It was part of a program, a hint of a dance and a story, but the main focus was when the pressure built for a jump and Yuuri watched, astonished at the four rotations Yuri managed before landing, skating back into another set of spirals. 

“Did you come up with that yourself or was that another request?” Yuuri asked, trying not to act as if he wasn’t completely blown away by how graceful Yuri made it look. He had always been the best with jumps.

“I got bored,” Yuri flushed as he skated back to Yuuri. “I bet the rest of the skaters can learn it, too. I know you can for certain,” he gave him a critical look. If anyone knew Yuuri’s talents, it was Yuri. “We have to stay one step ahead of the skaters on Earth, you know.”

“I guess so…” Yuuri didn't look at the Earth much, looking at his former home had been too painful at first and now it was too disorienting to realize that so little time had passed there. He didn't even pay attention to any particular skater, but he was fascinated by the strides they were making as a whole. “It's not like I'm going to find someone down there to train.” 

“Even Leo found someone to train,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Even  _ I  _ decided to train someone and I know my standards are ridiculous.”

Yuuri made a face at the assumption that he had higher expectations than  _ Yuri.  _ The first fifty years had been brutal and more than a little demoralizing. He had worried that Yuri was going to shunt him off to live among the edges of the cosmos to gather stardust.  _ So what if I have high expectations for myself? I don't expect others to meet them and I don't trust myself to be someone's main mentor.  _ He didn't have the confidence in himself and so he never looked. 

Yuri just sighed, knowing the reasoning, but he was unwilling to voice it and give it strength. “Anyway,” he stretched and poked Yuuri in side. “You’ve been drafted to help Guang-hong, while Leo works on music. He’s not going to be a permanent assignment, but you can’t get out of helping the newer skaters forever.” Now his grin had a wicked edge to it. “Come on, old man. Time to show the newest skaters what we can really do.”

Yuuri brightened at that; he didn’t mind helping out and it  _ was  _ fun to see the delight on their faces when they realized they could do anything they put their minds to. “Alright--let me just clear the rink here and then we can  _ both _ get started. I can’t have you sneaking off, either.”

Yuri scowled and smacked him lightly, but he laughed and helped Yuuri make the rink ready for the newest star. “Well, if I left you alone, you’d run off and be skating in some other corner of the world and we wouldn’t get you back for days.”

“Whatever you say, Yuri,” Yuuri relaxed as the subject of him finding a protege was dropped. He still had centuries before it became mandatory and he was going to take every last moment that he had to improve himself so that whatever student he got, wouldn’t be disappointed with his skills. 

“Show me that jump again first,” he said ordered and let his mind focus on the task at hand before anything else. Yuri rolled his eyes, but he was all too eager to show off his newest skill and that was how Guang-hong found them, both trying to show off for the other and completely forgetting about what they were supposed to do.

It was just another normal day and one that Yuuri wouldn’t trade for all the stars in the sky. Finding a new skater meant leaving his home, even temporarily-- and he didn’t think he was ready to touch down on the earth yet. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was what passed for summer in St. Petersburg and Yuuri felt the light jacket was fine to wear. Yuri wasn’t wearing any sort of jacket and really, neither one of them  _ needed _ one. It was all for appearances. 

“It’s not as cold as home,” Yuuri grinned, “but it’s colder than Japan.” He could almost remember the sticky-hot summers of Japan, where you would lay in the shade and fan yourself, praying for a bit of rain to cool things down, even for a few moments. 

Home now; there wasn’t rain as they had on Earth, but instead rains of stars, the edges of light that moved through their world. The discards of stars that sometimes fell to the earth, but mostly to the gardens and the seas, or freezing beneath blocks of ice and creating vibrant rinks that could be skated on by anybody just for fun, not for skating out the constellations. 

Soon after Yuuri had come to the stars, Yuri had taken him out of the ‘city’ into a field that was nothing but stars, covered in a blanket of blue and purple and dusky rose.  _ Pieces of sky, leftover shards of stars and wishes, of stardust that came from our skates. _ Yuri’s tone had been matter of fact, but the description had struck a chord within Yuuri at the time. He felt like he was a kid again, lost in the wide open fields of tufted grass, where he could hide from his sister, both of them playing a version of hide and seek. The stars had been different, but he still fell over into them, smiling up at the sight reflected above them, He felt completely surrounded and safe and happy for the first time. Yuri had thrown himself into the deepening blanket of stars, laughing, wide open and happy and it was contagious. It was the first time he felt like he was really at home. 

“Nothing is as cold as home,” Yuri said dryly, “but if you ever experienced Russia in the dead of winter, you’d think it was a close second.” They were here because Yuuri was still indecisive over skaters that could come to the stars; everyone he looked at from their perch on high didn’t seem to resonate with him and maybe--just maybe--a trip to the Earth to observe in person would make the choice easier for him. 

Yuuri smirked at that. “Well, good thing we’re not here in the dead of winter, then.” Even if it was the off-season with skating, he could still see potentials without being in the middle of a competitive season. It was less chaotic that way and he knew from his own experience, sometimes the skater did his or her best work when they weren’t in front of of the people that were watching them. He paused in front of a wall filled with pictures and names in the graceful script from Yuri’s childhood. “What’s this?”

Yuri blinked and tilted his head and then covered his mouth with one hand. “It’s a history of our champions,” he said slowly, gaze flitting about to the first picture, Yuuri trailing along after him as they walked down the line. There were a lot of skaters; but Russia also produced a lot of champions over the years. “I forgot they took a picture,” he murmured. “It’s been so long.” 

“They had pictures then?” Yuuri feigned shocked and earned a whack across the arm for that. He kept teasing. “Such an old man like you, it must have been shocking to have a camera aimed at you.”

“You’re not exactly the shining example of youth yourself,” Yuri shot back, but his gaze went back to the picture. 

Yuuri looked at Yuri and then back at the picture, stifling a laugh behind his hand. “It doesn’t look much like you at all,” he said, “except that scowl you’re wearing. Didn’t you ever learn to smile back then?” he teased. 

“You’re just on one today, aren’t you?” Yuri muttered under his breath. “I bet if there are any pictures of you, you’re not exactly smiling in any of them.” He really didn’t look like how he thought of himself now. His gaze stared straight ahead, hair longer than what society had dictated it to be pulling back in a tight tail. His posture was stiff with pride, the medal that he had won proudly displayed. 

As they walked away from the display of that long-ago boy, Yuuri thought about it. “There was a photographer that came around,” he mused. “My parents ran an inn; one with a hot springs attached and people came from all over to it.” He smiled at the memory; it had been so long ago that the pain of all of what was lost was muted to almost nothing. “The took pictures of so many things there; then of our family.” 

“I wonder if there are any pictures left,” Yuri grinned. “Fair is fair, after all.” Yuuri had been so serious the first year that he had been with them; it wasn’t a far stretch to imagine the solemn child he would have been in any sort of formal photograph. It was a long shot; this was probably the only picture of Yuri, after all-- and a lot of things were lost after almost a century of earth time. 

“We’d have to go to Japan to find out,” Yuuri shrugged, “and right now, you said that the best skaters are in Russia and I could start looking here.” Not there weren’t amazing skaters all over the world, but Yuuri felt guilty about taking out the real standouts; the ones that were the bright hope for their country without anyone else to step into the spotlight. 

“This is just the first stop,” Yuri huffed, arms across his chest. “I didn’t say that the  _ best _ skaters were only in Russia. They just have a lot, so that if you steal one, there won’t be that big of a fuss.” 

“And it matters if there is a fuss, why?” Yuuri asked dryly, sticking his hands in his pockets. “What are they going to do, follow us to the stars and take them back?” It was an amusing image and Yuri had to snicker at the thought. 

“Yeah, yeah-- it’d be amusing to watch, but if we kill off the inspiration for a country, then that’ll mess up potential skaters.” Yuri sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You were a special case. You made up your own skating before Japan really got into the international game and now look at them…” Japan had started winning World titles and gained a lot of recognition. They had come a long way since Yuuri’s isolated skating on a forgotten pond. 

Yuuri nodded, turning into the rink and sighing. “If I had this back then, I would have never stopped skating.” It wasn’t even an overly large rink; simple and modern, with young skaters partnered with their coaches over different patches of ice.

“Yeah, you don’t leave  _ our _ rink,” Yuri snorted. “Not a big surprise there.” They both stared at the rink, Yuuri squirming a little. He was already getting restless and wanted to skate. The energy wasn’t built up to anything dangerous, but it was both habit and something he loved at the same time and when he shifted his gaze over to Yuri, he saw the same expression of longing on his face. 

“We’re both hopeless, aren’t we?” Yuri sighed into his hands. “I’ll go see if they’ll let us skate and you see if you can spot anyone that’s worth recruiting.” Yuuri gave him a narrowed-eyed look. 

“They’re all too young,” he pointed out. “I know you don’t want to be seen looking as the youngest, Yura-- but I’m not going to have some kid that isn’t even fully ready to skate the way we need to.”

“No, no-- you’re just watching for potential skaters right now. I watched you for years, remember?” His ears turned red as he spoke. It wasn’t like it was something new, but saying it out loud … “In case you were ready to go as early as I was, I kept an eye on you.” 

“... and if I had fallen flat and broken a leg in the interim…” Yuuri shook his head. “I’m glad you didn’t take me any earlier than you did. I was still living at home at the time, so I probably would have actually protested if you took me away.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Yuri said softly, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be right back-- you go and look. You know what to look for by now.” He moved off quickly. Family had been important to him, too-- and if Otabek had hauled him away while his Grandpa had still been alive, he’d have kicked the older boy through a wall to get away. 

Yuuri leaned against the barriers, closing his eyes to take in the smell of the ice. It wasn’t like home; he wouldn’t skate constellations here. Still, there had to be someone here that had the potential to be one of the celestial skaters and Yuuri had to find one. His attention was caught by one of them in the middle, long pale hair pulled up into a high ponytail. He spun around with effortless grace and Yuuri couldn’t help but stare at the little poodle on the corner of his practice shirt, of the smile he wore as he leaned back into another position. 

“Found one, did you?” Yuri spoke in his ear and then stared. “Damn, doesn’t he stand out like nothing else.” He tied a band around Yuuri’s hand, grinning a little. “We can go skate once they’re finished there. They take a break, we can skate for awhile and then they’ll skate again. We can spend most of the day here if we want to, or we can make our notes for the skaters here and then go to another arena.” 

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea…” he couldn’t just bank on one skater being the one that deserved to be elevated. It was too soon to pick anyone, but he could at least keep his eyes out on those that did show the abilities that were needed. 

~

“Remember, nothing too crazy,” Yuuri teased Yuri as they skated out onto the ice. He was vaguely aware of the younger skaters and coaches watching; but mostly it was to tease and poke at the skaters that weren’t professionals, how they skated in small clumps around the rink, never venturing far from a wall that they could cing onto. 

“Screw that,” Yuri snorted. “I’m going to skate how I feel like. I’m just going ot make sure I don’t sideswipe a kid while I’m doing it.” 

“That would be bad,” Yuuri said, keeping his expression innocent. “You might take out one of my picks and then where would I be?” He didn’t want to hold back, either--it felt wrong, almost cheating, to hold back in something that he loved. Even after centuries of skating, he never got tired of the way he could let himself dance and fly across the ice. 

Yuri snorted, but moved in broad motions across the ice and waited until no one was around before he did a jump, tailoring it down to a double, rather than the quads that he had been so enamored with recently. Yuuri was content to practice the steps he wanted to put into a new arrangement, letting the emotion guide him. It wasn’t about making it perfect, it was about inspiring and burning off the energy that built up inside when he wasn’t skating. 

He was vaguely aware of some people watching; it was a tenseness at the back of his neck, but he dismissed it easily. No professional skaters watched  _ adult _ ‘amateurs’ on the ice. There was no profit or benefit to trying to recruit someone that was already on their way out of being able to skate professionally. Even Yuri was pretty much a no-go. He thought all this and still was unaware of a set of eyes on him as he skated. 

Viktor Nikiforov, the skater that he had tagged as his potential pick, was very much interested the skating that Katsuki Yuuri unknowingly showcased.

~

VIktor could have been eating or relaxing or any number of things that didn’t involve getting blinded by the lights on the ice after skating, but he was transfixed by one of the public skaters. He poked Yakov in the side. “How come I’ve never seen that one before, Yakov?” he asked.

“He’s probably a tourist,” Yakov dismissed it easily. “There are all sorts that come to the city.” Still, if Viktor noticed him, there had to be something about him that stood out. “Which one are you talking about, Vitya?” There were a few that were standouts; a small blonde that didn’t look as if he was much older than Viktor, and a slightly older boy, obviously foreign by his looks. 

“The one with the jacket on,” Viktor said, tone impatient. “Look at him-- he has to have a coach. Do you think he’s in the senior division? What if he’s coaching? We’d have heard of him if he was a skater--” he babbled on, eyes fixed on the way the young man moved from spin to layback, crossovers and twizzles, all seemingly without any effort, as if he was dancing across a floor and not skating on already worn ice. 

“You ask too many questions,” Yakov rubbed his head as if his headache threatened to overtake him. “He may just be one that enjoys skating; there are those that don’t go for the spotlight. It is a waste of talent, yes-- but you are not to go and harass the young man, do you hear?” he asked. 

“Fine,” Viktor huffed. “I just wanted some pointers before I go into Juniors next year.” There was so much emotion in the unknown skaters movements. He watched intently, as he and the other one he had been watching skated near each other, stopping and then moving to the side as they talked to each other. Viktor pushed away an irrational stab of jealousy that there was already someone so close to him. It was a ridiculous thought; it wasn’t as if he had singled him out, they obviously already knew each other. 

The younger one was gesturing and it had to be VIktor’s imagination that the sweeping hand encompassed him. The older one shook his head and then turned his head, meeting Viktor’s eyes for a moment, before his gaze went up to the clock on the wall above his head. 

There was another moment and Viktor wanted to be noisy and move closer to hear the conversation, but when he blinked and turned his head, the two strangers were gone. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. How could they just be  _ gone? _

He hoped that if they were tourists, this wouldn’t be the only time they came to the rink. He wanted to see that skating more than once.

~

“He noticed you,” Yuri griped. “It might be a problem later when you show up again.” He practically dragged Yuuri back to the star path so that they could take the shortcut to Japan. 

“If he sees me again, it’s because I’ve made the choice, right?” Yuuri asked, a little disconcerted to suddenly be back in his home country without any warning. “Yura, it’s okay,” he soothed. “He’s going to see so many skaters in and out over the next few years, he’s going to forget about someone as ordinary as me.”

Yuri gave him a frustrated look, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” he finally said. “C’mon, let’s just look around,” he grinned. “You got to see my hometown, now let’s see yours.”

Yuuri looked around at the bustling down, making a face. “It’s like I can actually show you around,” he murmured, “It’s a lot different than when I lived here.”

“As if St. Petersburg stayed the same,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “There’s gotta be some similar spots, it’s not like everything would be gone, It’s not even been a century.” Yuuri’s mouth twitched up into a smile. 

“And it’s not like Japan is big on a lot of change when they don’t need to change it,” he agreed softly. They were at least in a part of town that he surprisingly recognized. Not too far from the water, the buildings were obviously aged, but well-preserved. “My… the onsen was down this way,” he said. It probably wouldn’t be there; it had been an old building in Yuuri’s time. 

“Doesn’t look like it’s been abandoned,” Yuri observed. There were obvious signs of life in the buildings they passed, until they came to one that was a business and the sound that Yuuri made in the back of his throat had Yuri stopping dead to look at him. “Yuuri?”

“It’s… I had forgotten until now, but…” he shook his head, one hand clenching at his side. “It’s been centuries and I remember it like it was yesterday.” He smiled a little. “It’s been partially been turned into a museum for the town,” he said, pointing out a sign. “You can learn about the history of Hasetsu and soak in the hot springs afterward.” 

His expression was one of pained amusement. “Well, let's see if I'm included in this history.” He and Yuri walked in; there was no cost for the museum portion; the main draw was the hot springs. it was obviously small and locally run. There were pictures on the wall and items in glass cases. Yuuri shook his head over some of them. “Some of these are older than me,” he teased. “Glad to see I can see some of it as history.”

There was silence and Yuuri turned to see Yuri staring at a portrait on the wall. “Hey, this was you, wasn't it?” Yuuri hurried over and his eyes went wide. It has been him, longer ago than he could remember. “You were smiling.”

It wasn't the only thing; Yuuri had been smiling so hard because he had his arms around his dog, with his sister standing against his side. The script underneath stated, ‘Katsuki Children and pet.’

“They were the children of the family that owned the onsen in the early 1900s.” Someone spoke up behind the two of them. “Mari was the girl, Yuuri the boy. Mari was my grandmother.”

Yuuri turned and stared at her, mind going blank with shock. Yuri covered his mouth, but Yuri knew it was to hide a smirk at the absolute impossibility of Yuuri running into his great-niece. “You look like her,” he managed. 

She eyed him, dyed hair pulled back into a bandana. “I wish you could have told her that. She said she only wished that she could have gotten away with half the shit I'm allowed to do, but she’s not around any longer.” She ran a hand through her hair, looking away and obviously still missing her grandmother and abruptly changed the subject. “We don't get a lot of tourists through here. You got a place to stay?” She gave them another look. “A lot of people are in town for the figure skating competition. One of the big shots is skating.”

“We need a place to stay,” the two of them spoke in unison, then scowled. Yuuri shook his head and bowed slightly. “If you know of a place…”

She gestured behind her. “Here. We still run the place as an inn next door. Not many people want to come, but it's still kept in shape and maintained. You'll get to soak in the onsen, too.” She gave a teasing grin to Yuri. “You think you can handle it?”

Yuri snorted. “I can handle a little heat,” he said dryly and Yuuri hid a smile. Extremes of cold and heat weren't a problem for them. “Thanks,” he muttered. 

“If you're finished looking around, I can show you to the room. You two seem cozy, have any problem against sharing?” 

Yuri shook his head, Yuuri still lived with him; the house had just expanded to fit the two of them and their personalities. It wasn't like it would have been a problem anyway. They would only be here for a few days at the most.

“Come on, then. I'll give a mini history lesson along the way. All part of the package here.” She gave them both a curious look. “Since you’re staying, I don’t suppose you could introduce yourselves?”

Yuri gave her an amused smile. “If you can believe it, we’re both called Yuri.” He glanced at Yuuri; uncertain of giving his actual last name. It would seem too bizarre to have the last name Katsuki as well, and the girl might be offended by the odd ‘coincidence’. Chances were if Yuuri’s sister was her grandmother, she knew that she had a brother with the same name. 

“My name is Hinoko Rika,” she smiled, bowing quickly and he was grateful that she didn’t press for anything more.  _ Maybe she thinks that all foreigners are weird like that.  _ “Welcome to the Katsuki Ryokan.”

He could see echoes of the sister he thought he had lost with the rest of his family. He was conflicted to find out that she had survived, grew up and had family of her own. It heartened that his family had continued, that the sister he had followed to ballet class, the one that held his hand as they walked to school raised children and grandchildren. She had been the first one to cheer him on as he wore his first pair of skates and slid across the pond and he felt almost cheated that he didn’t get to see her one last time. 

_ Still… you accepted that you lost your family and gained a new one centuries ago, Yuuri. Accept the gift that this Rika has given you, by letting you know that Mari lived and protected our families legacy. _

He was lost in his thoughts when Yuri gripped his arm to prevent him from walking into Rika as she stopped outside of a room. “Fresh futons are in the cupboard,” she explained, opening up the door to a room that twinged at the edge of Yuuri’s memory. “In the dresser, sleeping robes and towels. Bathroom’s down the hall, onsen to the left.” She looked them over again, giving them a bemused look, before getting down to the business of paying for the small room for the three nights they would be staying.

~

It hit Yuuri when he was laying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and he started to laugh, covering his eyes with one hand. “This has to be the biggest joke,” he said, voice strained. “What are the chances, Yuri?”

“What now?” Yuri demanded, looking over at him. Seeing Yuuri in the yukata threw him back to the first time he saw Yuuri. The clothing was thinner and wasn’t layered by a coat, but Yuuri hardly ever wore the type of clothing he had when he first came to the star fields and it was a little disconcerting. Especially after all of what they had discovered so far. This was becoming a weirdly informational trip that didn’t get them  _ any _ of the information that they were actually on earth for. 

“This is my old bedroom,” Yuuri snorted and turned over. “The gods must really be annoyed I’m taking so long to find someone, if they’re shoving all of this in my face and letting me remember.” 

Yuri wanted to jibe at that, but he was quiet for a moment. “That may be closer to the truth than you think,” he said quietly. “I really think you need to find someone to take back with you, Yuuri. Someone worthy, of course--but I think this is a warning that you need to do your duties.” The implication that was being given a glimpse of all that he lost wasn’t exactly a  _ gift _ . 

“Rika said it was a big deal competition tomorrow, right?” Yuuri asked instead, looking back up at the ceiling. “I’m sure I’ll find someone there.”

~

It was a mixture of skaters from all over the world. It was later in the year than when Yuuri had seen the silver-haired Russian, he discovered, but even shortcuts through the stars caused time to blip strangely. 

“They have the Grand Prix now,” Yuri noted, both of them in front row seats to best see the skaters. “This is one of the better competitions to come see skaters at.” He looked at the group warming up on the ice, noticing the skill, while Yuuri looked for the style. 

“Snatch them halfway through the qualifiers or do you think we should stick around until the Final at the end of the year?” Yuuri mused. At Yuri’s surprised look, he shrugged. “I have been paying attention to the skaters,” he said defensively. “No one jumped out at me then, so it’s a good thing we came to see them in person. That way we don’t lose any time watching them.” 

“And here I thought you  _ literally _ had your head in the clouds,” Yuri snorted, then quieted as the first skater moved out onto the ice. He half-listened to the announcement about the name of Minami something-or-other, only curious enough to retain the information if Yuuri picked him. He was halfway decent, but in his opinion, not quite there with the material they needed for another skater. 

They put up with several more skaters and when a man named JJ came out, the crowd shouting his name, Yuri turned and glared at Yuuri. “You are not to pick that over-stuffed, peacock-brained of a skater,” he snapped. He was skating a song that was  _ all about him _ and something about it set Yuri’s nerves on fire. “I don’t care if he does a quad axel.” 

Yuuri laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think I could work with someone like him,” he said ruefully. “Even though he’s only human, he’s a lot more .. um… confident than I am.” It certainly seemed that way and a girl shouting louder than all the rest caught his attention.  _ Ah, he has someone. It would be cruel to take him away like that… _ He didn’t need Yuri’s opinion to sway him away from that choice. 

His attention was caught when loud, happy music filled the arena and it was like a tug on his senses as he focused on Phichit Chulanont.  _ This _ was the skater he would keep an eye on. Even if his mind drifted back to the young skater back in Russia, he could waited the centuries needed for him to grow up. This skater was worthy, he could already tell.

He could keep an eye on him during the competitive season. He ended the qualifier with a Gold Medal and Yuuri lingered nearby, out of sight, listening to him talk to his coach about how this clinched his title to get all the way to the Finals. 

Phichit was still young; though-- barely in the seniors, barely older than the Russian that Yuuri felt was his real choice. He could watch the energy of this skater for hours, but now… now wasn’t the time. 

“I think I have two picks,” he said to Yuri doubtfully, “If I tag them and watch them both over the next few years, do you think that will be enough for now?” He didn’t want to mess it up, he hadn’t heard of any of them having two picks, it was usually one that they just mentored.

Yuri frowned a little. “Well, you can’t take the kid from Russia yet,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. The conversation flowed around them, nobody really paying attention to the fact that they were even there. “He’s still got room to either improve or screw up entirely and this one--” he gestured to Phichit, chattering happily with a few fellow skaters. “Remember about taking away the hope of a country?”

“Thailand’s hope,” Yuuri rested his chin on his hands. “I want both of them and the gods will probably scold me, but-- I think both of them need to be stars.” 

“Then tell them that and continue to watch them,” Yuri shrugged and a little smirk appeared on his face. “Or you can make friends with them now and guide them to becoming what they can be.” 

“Yes, and neglect my duties as a star  _ and _ burn out because I can’t create star matter from regular human ice,” Yuuri shot back. “I’ll trust the coaches to make them shine the way we need them to.” 

“Glad to see that all that time with your old home hasn’t completely scrambled your brains,” Yuri sighed and tugged on his hair. “Well, you’ve made your choices and what’s a few centuries absolutely perfecting yourself in preparation for your first real students? Let’s go back, Yuuri,” he said solemnly. “Let’s go home.” 

“You just want to tease Mila about the skater she picked up,” he snorted.

“Yeah, and I want to be somewhere that doesn’t feel so heavy and  _ boring _ ,” Yuri took Yuuri’s wrist. “It will work itself out, Yuuri. If you felt the tug, it’s not going away. The gods put people in our paths that will do the most good, even if it’s for the gods own purpose.” 

“Yes, yes,” Yuuri had heard the lecture before, when Yuri had told him to be patient and he’d figure out what his next step was eventually. He looked at the crowds of people, the flashing lights and chatter and excitement that bubbled over everyone around them. He never had this, but part of him wondered what life would have been like if he had been born later than he had been. Would this have been his life? He felt it in his bones, that no matter what, he’d always be skating..

...but how did he measure up, really? He knew he was talented and could skate the stars and ice into ribbons that flowed up into the ever-changing colors of the sky, but he wanted to prove himself in a way that he couldn’t quite define yet. 

_ I’ll eventually find out what I’m missing. _

“Do you think I’ll be good enough to teach them?” he asked suddenly, pausing on the spiral staircase, glittering with stardust, flickering in and out on a beam of moonlight, automatically jumping to the next platform when the one he was on faded away. 

Yuri turned and gave him a flat look. “You’re better than any  _ mortal _ skater and almost as good as me,” he snorted, tossing his hair back. “And that’s only after half a millennia of skating. You’ll do fine.”

“With your example, how could I not?” Yuuri teased, and Yuri’s brows drew together, trying to determine if it was an insult or not and when the words struck home, he jumped onto Yuuri’s platform of light, until Yuuri squeaked and moved to another and another, both of them chasing each other the entire way up, throwing teasing the entire way up, their laughter following their footsteps. 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri fiddled with the strings of his hoodie nervously, watching Phichit chatter excitedly to one of the younger skaters. He was waiting for his opportunity to speak to him, to lure him away to the stars. He had told the gods that he had two choices, but humans took so  _ long  _ to age and get into the real growth of their skating. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer and with the win of a gold from the Grand Prix Final under Phichit’s list of accomplishments and a silver from Worlds  _ and _ the Olympics, he knew the gods wouldn’t let another few decades slide by before he grabbed the skater. 

 

Finally the area was clear and Yuuri watched as Phichit’s shoulders slumped slightly, falling back into a chair and automatically pulling out his phone, fingers flying over the keys as he updated this or that. Yuuri took the opportunity to step closer, flicking his gaze around to make sure that they were alone. “Phichit Chulanont?” He kept his voice quiet. “I… do you have a moment?”

 

Phichit looked up and the absolute astonishment on his face from Yuuri using his native language made studying it completely worth it. “Sure!” He beamed and put his phone away, tilting his head. “Wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, hope you don’t mind that I sit.” He watched him carefully. “Are you a skater?”

 

“... yes,” Yuuri said slowly, chewing on his lip. “Although not one of the skaters from here.” He looked up towards the ceiling, well aware that Yuri was probably watching his whole fiasco and making disparaging comments and a gesture of  _ 'get on with it already _ ’. “You’re really good,” he said shyly. “I watched you for a few years now.” Even more, he was convinced that someone with this much charisma would be amazing in the stars; he only hoped that taking him away from friends and family wouldn't sour that bright spark. 

 

“A skater and a fan!” Phichit grinned, but there was a note of wariness, waiting for whatever line was going to come next.

 

Yuuri rushed through his next words; he knew that Phichit already knew the legend of the star skaters; he had ‘overheard’ him talking to the younger skaters about it, of joking with them that “he’d be the first one to go” and show not only the world, but the universe, what he could do.  “You’ve...have you heard of the skaters from the stars?” he asked quickly, knowing the tips of his ears were going red. He wasn’t  _ fully _ sure if it was just a fairy tale among skaters now.

 

Phichit’s face lit up at the mention of it. “Yeah!” He beamed and bounced to his feet. “I didn’t think anyone else heard of them-- they think it’s all just little kid stuff,” he made a face. “I mean, it’s kind of wild and all, but--” He paused in the flow of his words, caution returning to his face. “Why are you asking?”

 

“I’m… I’m a skater,” Yuuri said, curling his fingers in the hoodie strings again. “I mean-- a  _ skater, _ one of the stars and… well-- I want to take you as one of the skaters. I mean-- for the stars. Not just skating here, but-- but skating up there,” he waved vaguely at a spot above their heads and he could already see Yuri laughing at him.  _ I’m going to get an earful when I get back home.  _

 

“Um…” Phichit starting looking around for other people, but Yuuri’s presence didn't allow for any interruptions at the moment. “Are you making fun of me? Did JJ put you up to this?” 

 

“Ah, no,”  Yuuri gave him an embarrassed smile. “I know it sounds like a story, but I have been watching. Ever since you first entered the Senior Division. I want to … have you come with me. Be one of the skaters.  I would teach you.”

 

“I already know how to skate, no offense. I mean ...if you've been watching me, you know that…” He still had the glimmer of hope and excitement that said that this was the right road to take.”

 

“There's skating and then there is being a star. Phichit Chulanont, do you want to see what it is like to skate for the universe?” He held out a hand to the other. 

 

Phichit gave him an amused smile and a shrug.  “Why not?” he asked, putting his hand in Yuuri’s. 

 

~ 

 

They were met by Yuri, who was still wiping away tears of laughter. “That was fucking hilarious,” he got out. “I hope you are better at explaining yourself for the next one.”

 

“You didn't explain at all,” Yuuri shot back, keeping a steady hand on Phichit’s shoulder to keep him from running off. He didn't expect to hear the snap of a camera and he turned to face Phichit in astonishment at the young man taking pictures. 

 

“You didn’t even give your name,” Yuri huffed, but he eyed Phichit in shock as well, momentarily thrown off his game from teasing Yuri to give the newest recruit an incredulous look. “You did explain things, right?” he asked.

 

“I’m going to tell him more than you told me,” Yuuri sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Phichit… I--” He bit at his lip. “You have a choice,” he said carefully. “See what it’s like to skate in the stars and for the universe and if you want to stay, you can-- but if you don’t want to stay, I can’t promise you’ll get another chance.” It was more than Yuri had offered, but Yuri had known him well enough even then, to see that if he offered Yuuri a way out, Yuuri would have taken it with the reasoning that he ‘didn’t deserve it’. 

 

Phichit was quiet and he put his phone away for a moment. “Is it really amazing?” he asked. “More than skating for the crowds and bringing joy to your country or meeting your fans and sharing all the places you’ve been?”

 

“That I don’t know,” Yuuri made a face, looking to Yuri for answers on that. Yuri had brought pride to his country for all of one season before he was chosen and Yuuri had never been acknowledged for his skating beyond being hand-picked by Yuri. “That’s why I’m offering you a choice.” He knew that humans were more attached to their family and their friends...even if for long stretches of time, they never saw them and sometimes the friends drifted away because they couldn’t understand the skating. 

 

“It’s a good thing you have a backup choice,” Yuri muttered in Russian. “He’s talented, but he’s one of those human sort of stars.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “He took  _ pictures, _ ” he said in disbelief, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t anyone’s ever taken pictures before.”

 

“I know, I know,” Yuuri muttered, looking flustered. “We don’t get many people saying no, but everything changed so much these days, too…” It had been only a century since he had been a mortal skater, but even with all their watching the earth and visiting to keep up with the changes in progress, it was still startling. Yuuri was happy with his life here, with the friends and family that made up the scattered stars across the heavens, but there were times he wished he had been able to see more on the earth as well. 

 

Phichit gave him a wide smile. “Well, I won’t know until I’ve tried, right?” he asked. “Is there some sort of trial? Something you need to test me for?” He laughed and peered around him. “Is it like qualifying for the Grand Prix all over again?”

 

“You’ve already passed the initial pick,” Yuri said dryly. “By Coach Yuuri,” he smirked when Yuuri smacked his arm. “Now it’s to see how you do with your free skate.” He gestured to the rink in front of them, one that had seen countless more skaters over the centuries. There were more people watching now, tucked away to assess. Most of the newer skaters had done competitions not even far before Yuuri finding Phichit and some of them probably  _ knew _ of him, from a skating standpoint. 

 

They had all agreed that he was qualified enough, but like Yuuri, they were uncertain if the isolation of the stars would be a good fit for someone that already reached out for the heavens on earth. 

 

Phichit looked at the rink and then back at Yuri and Yuuri. “I didn’t exactly get a chance to pack my skates,” he said. “Yuuri grabbed me without saying we needed them.”

 

“You can just step out onto the ice and they’ll be there,” Yuuri gave him a faint smile. “In case you changed your mind, I didn’t want anything … disturbed. Right now, they’re a connection with you on the earth and with the heavens, so time is passing at the same time for you.”

 

“Huh…. that’s really nice of you,” Phichit grinned. “I’d hate to have picked like “let’s go back” and found out that it’s like this taken away by fairies or something thing and everyone was gone.” 

 

Yuuri made a face. “More of the opposite problem, but we can get… carried away, sometimes,” he said, flicking his gaze to Yuri. It was only after that he was told how long it took to skate patterns of stars and how time shifted between the past and the present, that they could see the layout of the heavens as they created it, but to the mortals on earth, it was as if they were always there. 

 

“Huuuh, wow-- I hope I can see you guys skating then,” he beamed. “And I want video! In case I do end up having to go home.” He already held out his phone again, grabbing Yuuri and Yuri around the shoulders. “Good thing this place looks like an actual rink. No one’s gonna ask weird questions,” he said, just before snapping the picture.

 

Yuuri blinked and looked over at Yuri, who just shrugged. “People like to have memories.” It wasn’t like Phichit would forget. If he chose to go back, it wasn’t as if he’d be the first one to do so. Someone had to have spread the stories in the first place and the stars weren’t the only ones that did so. 

 

“Didn’t Sara say something about how people do all sorts of weird things with pictures and stuff to make fake stuff look real?” Yuri was unconcerned even Phichit did end up taking video of them. “What are they going to believe? That there are actual mystical star skaters that create the constellations? Only those that really are on our list really believe in it.”

 

“Things have really changed,” Yuuri had to laugh. “Even here, we’ve kept pace with the changes.” He pulled Phichit closer to the ice, giving him a reassuring smile.  “Think of it as magic.”

 

“Oh no, it's totally magic. I mean … I can't even deny that.  It's really cool and I can't wait to show you as long as you can show me what you guys can do.” Phichit was beaming and rocked on his feet, eager to get out. “Can you guys take a video?” He handed the phone to Yuuri, who held it carefully.  “Like this…”

 

Yuuri listened to the instructions and held up the phone with the camera running as Phichit took to the ice, going through the routine that had recently won him the gold medal at the last Grand Prix. 

 

~

 

Yuuri watched with an almost clinical detachment. If Phichit was thinking about staying, this was the moment that would determine what he did. It took three skaters for Yuuri to find out that he had passed the test with flying colors to be on the highest tier of the stars. 

 

“He's got a lot of talent,” Yuri noted from beside him and Yuuri spared him a look, one hand still holding out the camera.  It was a fun looking program, with lots of flourishes, jumps and spins and Yuuri smiled a little a the music that came with it, pouring from the tiny speakers on the phone. 

 

“He looks like he would be fun to be around, too.” Yuuri had to laugh at how open and friendly Phichit was already and to two virtual strangers that weren't even human. He was in a fantastical situation and insisted in making memories and not freaking out or questioning it. He was refreshingly open and Yuuri wanted him to stay, if only to get to know him. 

 

The performance ended and Yuuri silently handed the phone back to Phichit, who was still beaming, even though he was out of breath.  He turned to the rink, eyes widening at the miniature constellations that he created.  

He was automatically taking pictures. “Wow, if Ciao Ciao wouldn't kill me, I'd add something to the bottom of my blades to make it look this cool when I skated all the time…”

 

“So you've decided that you don't want to stay?” 

It sounded very definite and Phichit gave him an embarrassed smile. “I think I have a lot more to do yet,” he said slowly. “I know you said I might not get another chance, but I want to skate for Thailand.  I have a lot of dreams for them that I can't fulfill up here.” 

 

“I understand,” Yuuri looked over go Yuri. “I can take you back now. There won't be any time that's passed.”

 

“No, no...if I'm not going to come back here, I want video proof of you both skating as well.” There was a determined set to his mouth that would mean nothing if Yuuri took his hand and deposited him back on earth, but there were so few instances of normal people seeing them skate…

 

“Why not?” Yuri shrugged and launched himself over the barrier, gliding onto the ice with ease and grace, warning a shocked wow from Phichit and a hasty set up of his phone to record.  Yuuri would wait his turn; he loved to see the pizazz that Yuri put into his skating and his style had only grown more extreme and flashy over the years.  He and Otabek fed off of each other, pushing their respective styles to new heights.   _ I think that sometimes Yuri was born at the wrong time as well.  _

 

“I missed that jump,” Phichit fretted, but there were more jumps and spins that Yuri liked to add into his skating. Yuri never held back at all and added flips to spice up what could otherwise be boring.  

 

It was a shorter skate than what Phichit had given them and soon Yuri was snagging Yuuri’s arm. “Your turn to show your failed pick,” he teased. “At least he’ll have two standouts to impress the people he skates with, if they even believe him that we’re real.”

 

“As real as we can be,” Yuuri agreed, rolling his eyes. Phichit looked so  _ excited _ and Yuuri hoped that there would be another chance after this; someone that enjoyed skating so much deserved to be able to do it for as long as he wanted. It was a waste to have him skate out his mortal years and then stop all together. Still, if he had to be forced or tricked, he’d never skate in the way that the gods wanted and the fate for failed stars was worse than a stunted career on the earth. 

 

“I’m not as impressive as Yura is,” Yuuri explained, letting his skates form as he stepped out onto the ice. “He’s been skating centuries longer than I have.”

 

“If you sell yourself short one more time, Yuuri,” Yuri threatened, eyes narrowing. “I already told you how good you are and you’re not going to undersell yourself to some mortal skater that doesn’t even want to be a star.” This was all hissed out in Russian, taking the chance that Phichit wouldn’t be able to understand the words. Yuuri held out his hands in apology and turned to Phichit with a faint smile, before spinning out onto the ice.

 

~

 

Yuri watched intently, leaning on the boards and smiling widely as Yuuri apparently took his words to heart and used the intricate steps that earned him some of the most complicated storylines to skate across the stars. He and Yuuri often worked together, with Yuri added the intense flourishes and leaps across the stretches of the blank canvas space and Yuuri weaving in the tight clusters of stars that gave the underlying storyline for the mortals to interpret across the various societies that stretched across the earth. Yuuri was still the most beautiful skater he had ever seen and he was at his most smug to people when he pointed out the skater that  _ he _ found and others had discounted, since Yuuri had never premiered on the world stage. 

 

Phichit’s jaw dropped and he stared at Yuri. “Is this because he’s a … you said a star?” he asked, waving his hand.

 

“No,” Yuri shook his head quickly. “The stamina is more of what a star can do, but a lot of it is what won Yuuri his place here in the first place. He’s just had centuries of time to perfect what was already good at.” He tilted his head and watched Phichit out of the corner of his eye. “You can do this too, you know. Always being able to skate and create and hone your skills…”

 

“I want to bring skating to Thailand,” Phichit shrugged. “It’s not a big thing and if I suddenly left and … “ he looked sad. “There are a few younger skaters, but it’s really not all that serious yet. I want to show the world what Thailand is capable of and I want to show people all over how much fun skating can be. As cool as this all is… it’s not really showing people skating in the way I want to.” He looked towards Yuuri again and his expression looked sad. “It’s a shame that he can’t show the world on a more local stage.”

 

“Sometimes we do,” Yuri said thoughtfully. Yuri was going into his series of jumps; none as impressive as his, he was proud to note, but they still had grace with each combination. “It’s fun to go down and skate and just … relax,” he shrugged, “but we can’t stay for long, because our bodies aren’t meant for the earth anymore. This is our home and our human lives are long-burned out.”

 

“Well, you and Yuuri and whoever else should find me again when you come down,” Phichit’s voice was determined, pitched to reach Yuuri as the other finished with his skate and came up to the barriers. “You all need to have a little fun and I know the best places to go to and the best people to meet,” he grinned. 

 

Yuuri stared at him and then over at Yuri. “I… I don’t know,” he said doubtfully, but Yuri grinned and ruffled his hair. 

 

“A little downtime is allowed,” he said, “and it’s not like we’ll miss a lot of time up here. As long as you don’t run off and think the earth is open to you again, then it might actually be fun. Thought you probably won’t see us for a while,” he said, almost apologetic. “We have our own performances and this time of the year…” 

 

It was a special time for all the stars, across the vast reach of the universe, where they worked together on creating not only constellations, but galaxies that spiraled out and connected the empty spaces together. 

 

Not that he would tell Phichit that; he refused the offer to be a star and not all answers would be given to him. Yuuri nodded slowly and gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll be down there again eventually, maybe a few years from now,” he said. “We still have a spot to fill and it’s my turn to find a skater. I am sorry you won’t stay, Phichit.” His expression was solemn. “I’ll be looking in to see how you’re doing…”

 

“And to see how people react to our skating,” Yuri added, laughing. “It should be fun to see if people try and imitate what no human can do.” 

 

Phichit grinned. “You’re going to be an instant hit,” he promised. It was one way, at the very least, to get these two skilled skaters noticed by those that had dedicated their whole lives to the sport, even if it wasn’t an immortal one. 

 

~

 

True to their word, Phichit was in the same place he had been when Yuuri came to see him and looking at his phone, only a few seconds had passed, but he had several minutes of recorded video and pictures that hadn’t been there before. It gave solid weight to the fact that he hadn’t dreamed it all up. 

 

He absently grabbed the rest of his stuff, thumbing through the pictures of the starlit-cavern, decorated in colors that he had only seen during the start of dawn, where color was barely starting to creep into the world, with the barest hints of light starting to come onto the horizon. 

With Yuri and Yuuri standing, their features radiant and bright and with a shine all of their own that eclipsed the darkness around them. 

 

A few of the other skaters had come by, some that he  _ knew _ and it was a shock to see the Guang-hong, who had vanished years prior or Leo, who had created all his own routines and music. He wouldn’t be able to put up their pictures; not unless he wanted some  _ very _ odd questions lobbed his way, but he had proof of the little skater family that despite being kidnapped and made to skate for eternity, seemed truly happy. Phichit almost regretted not choosing the life with them.  _ How else will Phichit on Ice exist, though _ ? 

 

He wasn’t walking where he was going and nearly ran into one of the other skaters; one that was just on the edge of coming into the Senior Division, but had chosen to stay another year in Juniors to ‘really show the world what he could do’ without the stress of trying to out-skate the others that were several years older than he was. He steadied him when he would have toppled over. “Oh, hey-- Viktor, wasn’t it?” he asked. “I saw you skate in the Juniors Championship. When are you going to skate against me?” he teased. 

 

Viktor blinked up at him and tugged on a strand of long, silver hair that came loose from his braid. “Next year,” he said cheerfully, “or maybe the year after that. I want to do it when no one’s expecting it, because I want to surprise them.” 

 

“The press will get it out of you,” Phichit laughed. “Good luck there, Viktor--” he paused and something twinged in his memory and something Yuri had said about how ‘no skater would be able to match what they did’. This Viktor was already doing feats that the more seasoned skaters in  _ Seniors _ couldn’t do… “hey, do you have a moment to see a video of some skaters I saw recently?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made some minor changes in terms of character appearance. Lilia is no longer with the stars as the teacher, it's just Minako. LIlia is brought up in this chapter. Only a minor change, but hopefully this will clear up any confusion at her 'appearance' in this chapter.

“Are you watching him again?” Yuri peered over Yuuri, nestled in the empty space between the stars, watching down over the rink where Viktor Nikiforov was skating. “He’s gotten better, but you promised that you were going to focus on music this century.” He poked Yuuri. “Don’t disappoint Otabek,” growled. “There’s not enough of you that hear music and since you decided to chuck the idea of having Phichit here, you need to do something different.” His expression softened slightly. “You can’t grow stagnant, Yuuri.” 

 

“I know, I know--” Yuuri made a face. “I want Viktor here, but…” he sighed and leaned back, the stars closing in on him, wrapping around his fingers, threading into his hair, making his skin glow. “I’m just starting to worry that we’re starting to take away people at the wrong times now… what could they have done if they stayed on the earth? Like Phichit refusing…”

 

“You’re being an idiot,” Yuri’s tone was acid as he flopped down next to Yuuri. “You know that we only take those that are ready. You’ve seen enough of that  _ now _ . I wasn’t going to shine any more on the earth than I did when Otabek found me and you sure as shit weren’t going to be found in the backwoods area that you lived in.” He pointed down to the shifting time of the earth, of the possibilities that were laid out in the sparkling lines that they could see. The potential was there and it was like a halo around the young skater below, but the line to reach up to the stars was not there yet. 

 

“I wish that … that I was more certain,” Yuuri sighed, resting his chin on his knees. “I haven’t found a single person for myself that’s stayed yet. What if I never find someone and …and they take me away from skating?” HIs hands cupped around the stars, letting them fill his hands and and trickle out again, as liquid as water with his touch. His eyes were dark with fear of being taken away from something that was tied up in his very being; something he couldn’t imagine stopping. It didn’t matter how long he had been skating, it was not something he wanted to stop. 

 

“Like they’d ever have  _ you _ stop skating,” Yuri muttered under his breath, smirking. “Why do you think you haven’t gotten another assignment until now?”

 

Yuuri looked bewildered, as he always did, when Yuri talked about his skill of skating; he knew himself that he was talented and he loved to skate and push himself. He still stumbled at when other people pointed it out. If someone said he did  _ badly _ , he’d defend himself and that attitude baffled Yuri over and again. Yuuri didn’t make logical sense, but it was always entertaining to tease him into doing something more than he thought he could do.

 

“Come on, you can stare at him later-- maybe even we go down there to get refreshed,” Yuri helped him to his feet. “We have a trip coming up soon…” It wasn’t nearly long enough since the last trip, but that had only lasted not even a few hours and this one would be at least a few days. Enough to introduce himself and start planting the seeds of what could be and to even encourage or teach the new potential skating moves that no one on earth had seen yet. Even if they didn’t end up recruiting him, they would at least lay the foundation to increase the talent on earth.

 

Yuri took one last look at the skater--Viktor. He knew that he would be taken, sooner or later. He could see the strings of fate wound around him that would lead him to the stars, even if Yuuri could not. 

 

~

 

Viktor frowned as came up from his spin, Yakov’s shouts ringing in his ears from his last sloppy landing to his triple. He couldn’t help it that he was distracted! In his mind, the video that Phichit had shared with him stayed in the back of his mind. It didn’t matter that it had been months since he had seen it; he watched it all the time and analyzed each jump and spin and graceful step sequences that created a blanket of stars. 

 

It didn’t help that he recognized the skater that he had seen all that time ago. He had almost convinced himself that he had imagined him and his vocal blond friend, but the pictures proved that he hadn’t been losing his mind that day. He had begged Phichit where he could find the mysterious skaters, but the Thai skater had only laughed and hugged his phone to him. 

 

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he grinned. “As long as you  _ reach for the stars, _ ” With that sort of cryptic advice, he had dashed off and Viktor knew he wouldn’t cross paths would him to wiggle out anymore information until the next competition. It was almost worth it to switch to Seniors  _ right then _ , if only to get the answers he needed. 

 

“Why is your head in the clouds, Vitya?” Yakov demanded, but some of the bite was gone from his tone and was replaced with concern. He had known Viktor all of his life and practically raised him, from the time he was doing spins and jumps on ice at a young age. “Is something bothering you?”

 

Viktor shook his head, biting at his lip as he took a slow drink of water. “Nothing like that, I just…” his voice trailed off. He wasn’t a kid anymore, not … well, not the kid that Yakov first took under his wing and trained all these years. “Do you ever think that you’re missing something sometimes?” he asked. HIs mind went back to that skater, that seemed to create music out of the blankness of the ice, whose entire body was caught up in the impromptu skate that he performed. He didn’t even know his name or where he could find him, but even with a fuzzy memory separated by years of seeing him, he realized something was odd about him and it was frustrating that any message sent to Phichit was full of sky memes and stars and cheesy “the more you know” with a shooting star dancing across the screen. 

 

Yakov looked amused, but swallowed his smile. “Missing as if something is obvious or something in one of your programs?” he asked. 

 

Viktor made a face at that. “Both?” he asked. “Sort of,” he spread out his arms and spun, just to feel the air cut across his face and clear his head. “I like the program, I know it’s going to win gold,” he said, confident in his own abilities and the choreography that was given to him. “But I was talking with one of the senior skaters and  _ he _ was talking about some skaters he saw when he was on a trip and …” he huffed, crossing his arms and pouting. “And he won’t tell me anything about them except give me dumb star memes when I asked for a straight answer!”

 

Yakov froze at the word  _ stars _ and Viktor noticed, going still as well and stopping his ranting for a moment. “Yakov?” he asked, feeling uncertain now. His coach looked as if he had seen a ghost and Viktor felt inexplicably guilty, even if he wasn’t sure how  _ memes _ had caused such a reaction. 

 

He pulled off the ice and balanced on his skates next to his coach. “I’m sorry-- you know the memes are just jokes, right? That’s why I was upset?” 

 

Yakov shook his head and pulled them both to a bench. “No, no-- it is not the jokes,” he ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Have I never told you of the constellation skaters?” he asked. He knew he hadn’t; it was one thing to make a story about it and joke, but Yakov had been coaching for decades and skating before that and he knew they were more than just jokes or stories. 

 

Viktor peered up at him and shook his head, confused. Yakov wasn’t one to make jokes or bend far from the topic of this skate or that skate; talking about skating fairy tales was so far from what Viktor was expecting that he was caught speechless. 

 

“Ah, well--it’s an old, old story,” Yakov gestured for Viktor to bring out his phone. “Let me see this pictures of yours,” he said, “and I will tell you while you show me.” 

 

VIktor still gave him a baffled look, but it was time to rest anyway and it wouldn’t hurt to indulge Yakov-- especially if his coach could provide some answers for him. He pulled out his phone, stretching out his long legs in front of him, showing Yakov the pictures and video that Phichit had given him. There weren’t many, but Viktor started with the video of the Japanese skater that he had started to watch again before his practice. 

 

Yakov grunted at the start of the skate, eyes narrowing in speculation at the step sequences that made up the longest portion of the skate. Viktor grinned a little to himself; Yakov was assessing the mystery skater as he would any of his actual skaters and he only did that if he thought they were good. 

 

It flipped to the blond, who started out his short routine with a number of jumps and spins and Yakov laughed a little. “These two are like one skater doing two halves of a routine,” he pressed the phone back into Viktor’s hands. “One jumps high enough you think that he will touch the ceiling and the other dances as if there is nothing else involved.” It wasn’t an entirely fair assessment; the Japanese skater did triples and doubles; the blond skater had a stunning skating style all of his own. 

 

He could see what Yakov meant, though. As if they were both skating parts of one routine. He paused on the shimmering stars that lit up the rink and the ice and poked at the image. “We should do this for our rink,” he grinned. “Think how cool it would be!”

 

“That’s not anything we could do here, Vitya,” Yakov seemed to come back to his original thought of why they were doing this. “Now, the skaters-- there are stories going back many many years; even before we had competitions, when skating was just something to get from one place to another. Skaters going missing, the ones that had the most speed or balance. Some of the people’s singers or storytellers would vanish mysteriously. But it was a long-ago time, Russia was a cold and harsh and unforgiving land and people would sigh and mourn, but that was life.”

 

Viktor’s eyes lit up at the mystery of it all and he already began thinking of all the fantastic reasons it could have happened. Russia was filled with faeries of all sorts, walking legends and doorways. Still, Yakov was going somewhere with this. “The stars?” he asked. How could stars be involved in someone’s disappearance? They were just always  _ there _ ; shining in the velvet dark of the night sky, The patterns had been more visible when he was a child and lived in the country, but they were always there, eternal. 

 

“Just listen, Vitya,” Yakov scolded. “So years went by and sometimes there would be stories of old friends showing up again, but they glowed with an unearthly light. More skaters or dancers or musicians would go missing. They say that is what happened to the first Russian champion, from the first international competition vanished to. Talented beyond his years that the stars stole him.”

 

Viktor’s mouth hung open in shock for a moment, then spread to a wide, heart-shaped grin. “Yakov! I didn’t know you were such a romantic!” He beamed at him. It gave a whole new image of the gruff coach and he beamed up at him. 

 

“I’m not finished yet,” Yakov muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “This is not an old man’s ramblings or a fairy tale, Vitya. Years ago, I met one of those skaters; he said his name was Yuri Plisetsky.” There was a significant pause, but Viktor just gave him a blank look. “Bah, why do I even bother with names? Unless they are interesting enough to skate against you, you never notice…” he waved that off and ignored Viktor’s pout as he continued. 

 

“Yuri Plisetsky was the first Russian skater to win an international competition, but vanished when he was sixteen. It could have just been coincidence that they shared the same name; Yuri is not an uncommon name, after all.” He paused and sighed. “I was nearing the end of my skating, then-- only twenty-five and I was about to step out of the competitive field. Yuri found me and asked if I had wanted to skate in a rink that would always display the best of what I could do.” 

 

Viktor was fascinated despite his skepticism and gestured for Yakov to finish his story when the older man paused for far too long. “You obviously didn’t go,” he said bluntly, “or else you wouldn’t be a coach now.” 

 

“No, I had a life here,” he said, smiling a little. “I had just proposed to Lilia and we were planning our wedding. She was still dancing and was working with me on my routines. The lure of skating forever in the stars could not pull me away from her.”

 

Viktor’s smile only grew at the mention of Lilia; she and Yakov had their tiffs now and then, but she was like a mother to Viktor and was the most punishing teacher he had ever had for dance. He was in turns scared and amazed by her. “You are a romantic,” he sighed and held his hands to his chest. “So you gave up trying to skate with legends because of your love.”

 

“You are partially right,” Yakov wouldn’t be able to disabuse Viktor of the romantic notions that he spouted all the time. He had dreams of meeting ‘the one’ and they would skate together and do routines and no one would be able to look away from them. Yakov had heard many of a dream and wish from Viktor and it was tiring. “I also had trouble believing the truth of the words, until they showed me this very rink.” He pointed to the screen. “I didn’t skate for him, I thanked him for his time and then went back to Lilia and finished my competitive skating career and I never saw Yuri Plisetsky again. I thought it had all been a dream until this…” he shook his head. 

 

“He’s shown up at the rink before,” Viktor said, biting his lip. “Him and this other skater--I saw them both that day…”

 

“Then perhaps he plucked another promising skater,” Yakov waved it off. “I am telling you this so that you do not fall for their charms. You have work to do here and skates to perform,” he said severely. “Think about the stars later, Vitya,” he said seriously. “Think about them too hard now and you will never get your chance. Skating on earth is what you are good at and what people watch you do. Focus on the here and now.”

 

He didn’t want to lose Viktor, who was like a son to him, to the grasp of the stars, however good their intentions were. 

 

Viktor wrinkled his nose at the thought of not tracking down the mysterious, wonderfully artistic skater that was supposedly from the stars. He loved skating now, true-- he loved to see people’s happiness when he skated and how they reacted and the people he met all over the world. He loved Yakov and Lilia and didn’t want to give them up, either. Still-- Yakov admitted there was something else out there. 

 

And he never said that he should  _ never  _ take the chance… just wait for the right moment. 

 

“Just wait,” he whispered to himself as he went back onto the ice. “Just watch, you stars-- I’ll prove I’m good enough for you.” He said the stars, but his mind was on the unknown skater that had first captured his attention when he was twelve. “Don’t look away from me.” 

 

~

 

“I like this one,” Otabek finished translating the music that Yuuri had been hearing off and on when he skated, smiling faintly in appreciation. “I think we can make this one work for a new set of stars that the gods commissioned--” It had a bit of a spin to it, an underbeat that would be good for something like the Lovers. “But listen to this--” he played another set of the song and Yuri frowned as he listened to it closer. 

 

“It’s… not the same, but it is,” he said, after a moment of listening to the song. “Seems kinda lame, though,” he crossed his arms across his chest. “Who’s going to skate that one?” 

 

Otabek looked amused. “I had you in mind for it, actually,” he said, lips barely twitching as he held back his laughter at Yuri’s outraged look. “Remember how Yuuri thought you were an angel when you first showed up?”

 

Yuuri didn’t hold back his laughter, not even at Yuri’s more pronounced scowl. “Then make Yuuri skate it,” he huffed. “I like this other one better--” he played it again, tapping out the beat of it, trying to focus on what the story would say. “Yuuri’s more of a sap than I am; he’s all focused on a human down below, instead of even  _ trying _ to find other potentials.”

 

“Isn’t that what he’s supposed to do?” Otabek asked, sitting back. “So that he doesn’t make a mistake like last time and pick someone that refuses to come?” He raised an eyebrow at Yuri. “You had one of those as well-- you’re just upset because the one that Yuuri wants is the student of the one that refused your offer.”

 

Yuri huffed and rolled his eyes. “He gave up skating here and got old and grumpy and all for a girl,” he muttered. “What a waste.”

 

Otabek gave him a long look at the grousing. “Now, now, Yura--if we didn’t leave the occasional skater on the ground to make more little skaters, we’d stagnate for lack of new talent far too soon.” 

 

Yuuri didn’t even hold back his snickers at the tone that Otabek adopted and Yuri smacked him in the chest. “I’m older than you are, Yuuri,” he huffed, but a smile slowly grew, still able to find humor in the situation. Otabek had a way of making him laugh. “Just don’t try the same trick with shiny down there,” he warned. “You know the consequences.”

 

“I know,” Yuuri muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Yura. Not as long as you, but I’m not a new star any longer. We’ll go down together, spread some rumors, make a scene and then wait again.”

 

Yuri nodded and squeezed his shoulder, expression serious. “As long as you don’t forget it, Yuuri. You’re meant to be a star and skate in the heavens; if you want pretty boy, you take him when he’s ready and try not to fold so easily if he says no.”

 

“Sure, sure,” he said, a faint smile on his face. “Let’s go show Minako the songs that Otabek made and see what she can do for us.” He gave Otabek a wide smile. “You could always skate one of these,” he said, curious that Otabek hadn’t created one for himself. 

 

“Not my style,” he said. “I already brought my music selection over to Minako, she has something for one of the ‘hero’ legends of stars that the gods were fighting over.” He shrugged. “I’ll try and appease them all, but you may not see more for awhile after this. I think it’s going to be a long project. Good luck on recruiting, Yuuri.” 

 

Yuri accepted the music that Otabek made, still scowling a little. “We’ll see what Minako thinks of who should do what,” he muttered, but smiled back at Otabek and held out a hand. “No matter what, I know we’ll do amazing things because the music you make is always the best.” 

 

He missed the flush of pink that rose in Otabek’s cheeks as he turned away, practically dragging Yuuri with him. “Let’s get to work.” 

 

~

 

Minako stared down at the two of them, arms crossed against her chest. “The problem,” she said slowly, “is that what you are trying to portray doesn’t come across as clearly as it’s supposed to be. I could teach you all the steps, but …” 

 

“The emotion isn’t there,” Yuuri said slowly. It was no wonder-- he had been taken away from the earth before he had formed much of relationship beyond the one with family and friends, and what Otabek had thought for him to do was beyond his ken. Even Yuri was struggling with it, but he had the drive, but he had became a star at a far earlier age than Yuuri. The concept of family and friendship was there; there was no tighter bond than what the stars shared, but the more mature theme of ‘love’ eluded them both. They both had tried each other’s routines to see if they could make it work and came up short. 

 

“No, it’s there, it’s just…” she made a frustrated sound and then gave him a wicked grin. “You should have gotten laid before Yuri snatched you up,” she laughed. “Then we’d have something to go for, but I don’t doubt that you had someone staring after that cute face of yours.” She reached forward and ruffled his hair, ignoring his annoyed glare. 

 

“So you’re saying to drop Yuuri in the middle of a teeming crowd of admirers, let him have a one-night stand and then vanish again?” Yuri smirked over at the blush that was rapidly spreading over Yuuri’s face. “Sounds amusing.” 

 

“That’s just…” Yuuri looked horrified. “That’s  _ rude _ ,” he huffed, crossing his arms against his chest. 

 

“Well, I certainly can’t do it,” Yuri snorted, spreading his arms to take in his appearance. “I look like I’m sixteen and I’m not either shacking up with a  _ real _ kid, or confusing the hell out of some person but telling them how old I really am.” 

 

“And you think that it’s okay for  _ me _ to do that?” Yuuri scowled. “I’m not that much younger than you are, you know,” he pointed out. 

 

“Yes, but you don’t look like you’re a teenager, either,” Yuri shot back. “You could have a fling, finally realize your own appeal beyond the group we have up here and then get back to work.” He paused and the grin that spread across his face did not bode well for Yuuri. “You could even seduce them with your skating and nab a potential star, all in one go.” 

 

“I have a feeling I know just the one you have in mind,” Yuuri said dryly. “I don’t even know what you think my so-called seduction skills are, but I am going to wait until at least he’s skating in Seniors before I even make contact with him about  _ skating _ .”

 

“Aw, give the guy a thrill,” Minako chimed in, eyes bright. “He’ll skate so pretty after you charm the skates off of him and make his day.” She squeezed his shoulder and her expression turned more serious when Yuuri’s expression turned more stubborn and disbelieving. “You know the only thing you have to do is observe that sort of thing, right?” she asked, poking him. “Integrate yourself into one of the skating communities and watch something develop and try and emulate it.” Another pause and another wicked grin that she shared with Yuri. “Still, experience is the best!”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes at the two of them, stomping away, not letting their words wiggle their way into his brain. He all too easily could conjure up the lithe, graceful image of Viktor skating on the ice and he didn’t want to get his hopes up with enticing him with skating. The idea of enticing him any other way was patently ridiculous. 

 

_ Not that you want to seduce a  _ human _ , Yuuri,  _ he scolded himself. Humans were meant to inspire and they inspired them in turn, the skaters and dancers and singers-- the creative sparks that were unrecognized and unnoticed were taken to be put to work in doing something they loved and the reflections of that spread across the galaxies. They in turn inspired the humans on earth and the cycle began again. There was nothing about  _ seduction _ . 

 

Still, he couldn’t deny that there was something about the human skater that caught his attention. He couldn’t look away. 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is still considering Victor as a potential skater for the stars and decides to examine him more closely when he and Yuri get an assignment to scout out for new talent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been awhile since I worked on this fic! I haven't abandoned it, but it was close. Then I got a comment from someone who said they loved it and I went back and read all the comments of those that were following this. I had a major hit in my writing confidence lately and all those comments really helped me continue. Thanks goes forever and always to [thehobbem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehobbem/pseuds/thehobbem) for their absolutely amazing work in editing this fic. They are a real star and super encouraging, helping to lift me up to keep writing. This chapter wouldn't have happened without them.

Yuuri sighed and went to gently pick up Potya from where she was laying on his clothing for the day, but she made a soft mewing sound, curling up in a tighter ball, and he didn’t have the heart to move her. Throughout all the centuries he had spent in the stars, he had stayed with Yuri. The one time he had tried to leave, Potya had lain in front of the door, nearly scolding him with her meows. The only concession made was that they used the apartment next door and opened up the walls so that they had double the space than before, and the option to have privacy if needed.

She seemed happy with it and even happier that she was still the only pet, even when they would come home smelling of other animals; cats, dogs, birds — it didn’t seem to matter, but they both rescued as many as they could whenever they had the chance. Could she talk, she would surely tell the world that she had claimed them. It was part of the reason why Yuuri had never brought home a pet of his own; the small fluffy cat was enough for now.

Back on Earth,, he would come home to a place that echoed with the sound of his own footsteps and he would often speak into the silence to make a noise. Now, there was Yuri thumping between the rooms, having enthusiastic conversations with Otabek, or playing specially commissioned music at top volume to try and get the “vibe” from it. Yuuri was never alone, surrounded by so many people. 

Potya shared equal space between his room and Yuri’s, having clearly staked her claim on both of them in equal measures. Yuri had been just as stubborn, saying ‘it’s stupid to have you move out when it makes more sense to stay in the same place.’ It had taken a little longer to realize that Yuri was lonely as he was,, and since Beka was often on the opposite end of the universe, he couldn’t stay with him.

The place had changed over the years. Even if the stars spun in the same orbits for centuries on end, humanity was always changing, despite moving slower than the heavens. Their house was filled with a collection of both their styles: Yuri and his never ending cat print pillows and giant prints that covered the walls; Yuuri with a more sedate taste of the ocean and scenes from his home in Japan. At times, they overlapped. Both liked the frozen scenes of fields and ice, trees covered with snow and the eerie quiet the images projected.

The view outside was ever-changing, galaxies being created with the music of the universe that echoed in every strand. Even the dimmest stars created a soft beauty and the sky shifted around them time after time, showing more beauty in its endless landscapes. It was never dull, never a repeat in all the years that Yuuri had been watching them. Some patterns were ones he skated, and others Yuri; both of them could recognize each other’s handiwork at a glance. It still sent a shock through him that his skating had created something so beautiful; and even when he pushed himself to the limit and didn't return home for days, it was all worth it in the end.

He broke out of his musings, fully giving up on rescuing his jacket from Potya, and went to find Yuri; Minako had something for them to do. She had only said it wasn’t about learning a new dance, so it probably involved a mission on Earth. He hadn’t succeeded with his original task of getting Phichit as a skater, so he would have to go about another avenue, either by being an inspiration or finding a replacement.

Yuri was already waiting for him, an amused look on his face as Yuuri closed the door quietly behind him. “You can’t move Potya, either,” he said, tone smug. “You made fun of me forever and you’re just as weak.”

Yuuri wrinkled his nose, but didn’t deny it. “I couldn’t ever move my dog,” he admitted. “He’d steal a yukata, drag it over to his bed and drool all over it. When he finally rolled off of it, I couldn’t even wear it because it was covered in dog fur and slobber.”

“This is why cats are better,” Yuri smirked, and then laughed. “When I first got Potya, she would puke right in front of my bed after I was gone for too long, just to get my attention and show how angry she was.” He pushed open the door, both of them descending the spiral staircase; crystals lighted their way as they neared, and darkened again as they went down the steps. “Potya must have always liked you,” he admitted. “You never had him throw up in your boots before.”

Yuuri blanched a little at the image of putting on his boots and encountering what had to be a rancid mess. “No,” he shuddered. “Potya and I have always got along.” His puppy had never been malicious with his stealing, either — rather, it was like Yuri said: more of a “hey, look at me, I’m here” way of acting out.

“At least she’s never lonely,” Yuri said quietly. They left the residential district behind them, and headed to Minako’s studio, nestled among the painters’ and musicians’ buildings. “That’s all I wanted to make sure of when I found her.”

Yuuri gave him a faint smile, but didn’t push for any more information; if he said it was sweet, Yuri would puff up like an angry cat himself and there would be nothing new from him for years. “Let’s just go see what Minako wants from us now,” he said.

“Probably to use you as an example of how humans don’t need joints and anyone can bend the way you do,” Yuri teased, shoving him.

“Please, you’re first in line for that,” Yuuri shot back, both of them poking at each other all the way to the door of the studio.

Minako opened the door without warning, letting them tumble inside practically tripping over each other. Her smile was a little too wide and Yuuri suddenly worried as to what she really did have planned. Learning an exhausting, complicated routine was normal; somehow Yuuri had the feeling that whatever she had planned was going to be worse.

“How would you two like an extended vacation on the ground?” She asked, closing the door behind them firmly and locking it. Yuuri stared, but Minako just shrugged, unconcerned at his worry. “I don’t want any interruptions,” she said firmly.

“So what’s the catch?” Yuri asked, slumping against the wall, arms crossed against his chest. It was probably one of the only times she wouldn’t ream him about his posture. “You don’t just get handed out ‘extended vacations’. We don’t have enough skaters for that, even if we did just finish a big project.”

“It’s because you finished a recent project,” Minako laughed softly. “You’re also two senior skaters. We can’t have Otabek on the ground, so you will be handling his music. He said he trusts you to know best where to bring it so that it reaches the right amount of people.” Yuri's cheeks went a little pink.

“And the rest of it?” Yuuri asked, raising an eyebrow. “If it was just spreading Otabek’s music, we wouldn’t need a special dispensation for it. “

Minako nodded. “I need the two of you on the ground for a few weeks, spreading information, trying to find new avenues, and cultivating people that won’t come up here, but might create the next skater or artist.”

Yuri made a face. “I hope you have someone else for the art scene,” he scoffed. “Yuuri and I can do the dance and skating and we’ve got Otabek’s stuff for the music, but ...”

“Yes, you’re not the only two that we’re sending,” Minako rolled her eyes, “You two are just my  _ personal _ recommendation to handle this and not completely screw it up. You’ll be focusing on the skating aspect of it, but with a side note to dancing.” She gave Yuri an amused look. “You will get a lot of dancing in; you’ll be making contact with your old pick, Yakov Feltsman and speaking to his wife. She was a great ballerina and both of you are going to learn something new.” She raised a hand to forestall his sputtered protest. “To learn something new,” she repeated, “and to ferret out any dancers that have the potential to come and train with us. There are too few dancers and we need that strength and creative energy to keep the universe running.”

“And Yuuri?” Yuri’s voice showed annoyance at the mission not being a vacation as much as it was dealing with another strict teacher dancing, instead of relaxing as he had planned to do.

“Yuuri will be doing more skating and talking with those that are in the current competitions going on. He’ll be assessing the skaters of his age to see if we can use any of them and being an inspiration to those that aren’t, so they can do their own work.”

“… I’m not the best kind of inspiration,” Yuuri huffed. He did better when it was just the people he trusted around him or when it was skating in an empty rink. He was completely confident in his skills, but… inspiring other people?

“Just by existing and doing your skating  _ here _ , you’re providing inspiration energy,” Minako said patiently. “This is just a little more hands on. We’re found a dip in interest lately on the ground and it’s not just skaters that need to be inspired, but people from all walks of life that see what they can do and pull joy from that.”

Yuuri sighed and still looked a little uncertain, while Yuri chewed on his lip. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Potya alone for so long, even if he got Otabek or one of the other stars to take care of her. “Who else are you sending down?” he asked finally.

“Well, in your little group, I want it to be just you and Yuuri, but Mila expressed an interest as well in the project. She wouldn’t be working with the same skaters, but since I can’t have you bending perception so much that you blend in with the female skaters….”

Yuuri turned bright red at the insinuation, while Yuri just snorted. “Yeah, yeah — we’ll get the old hag to come along as well,” he huffed. “I want to make sure we actually have  _ some _ time to enjoy ourselves, though,” he demanded. “Yuuri here never lets loose and practically eats and breathes ice skating. I’ll only do this shit if you cut his skating time down so that he can at least pretend to be normal.”

“You both have never been normal, or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Minako muttered under her breath. “Fine, fine — you’ll get some time to act like  _ normal _ young men before you start working. It will actually work better that way, because it will take less energy to insinuate the two of you into that tight group of skaters.”

“Good, then it’s settled. Yuuri and I get a week to pretend like we’re not long dead skaters for the stars and we get to make modern teenagers believe in myths and kidnap them for the stars. It will be fun for everyone.” Yuri grabbed at Yuuri, intending to drag him out of the room.

“Glad to see you’re ready to get rid of me already,” she laughed. “Go on and take your break before you get sent to the earth. You’ll need to bottle up as much energy as you can before you go, and bleed off as much as possible so that you don’t burn up down there.”

“And we’ll get Mila,” Yuuri said calmly, a smile in his voice, despite the fact his world had just tilted off its axis a little.  _ A normal person? _ He could almost just remember what it was like to be human and not a star. Yuri looked excited at the prospect of playing at being something other than what they had been tricked into becoming. 

Yuuri smiled. Maybe this could be a good thing after all. It would never last and they would have to go back to their normal routine after this opportunity; but for now, he would take the chance that was offered to him.

Yuri was already in contact with Otabek, chattering happily about what was planned for them, promising to stop by the studio to grab all the music and asking for him to watch Potya at the same time.

“I’m surprised you’re not taking Potya with you,” Yuuri raised an eyebrow, He hated leaving his cat alone, even if Potya loved Otabek and snuggled with him every time he was over.

“I’m worried about what will happen to her being on earth for so long,” Yuri looked uncomfortable. “I’ve never taken her past the stars and what if she’s not like us and she… just crumbles to dust for being alive for so long?” he asked. “I’m not going to risk it.”

“Is that something that can happen to us if we spend too long away from the stars?” Yuuri asked, genuinely curious. It wasn’t something that had ever really come up; they’d never had a chance to risk something like that on prior missions and it wasn’t something he had ventured out on his own to test. There had been stories of stars burning out because they quit dancing or skating, but not for  _ running away. _

Yuri’s expression was deadly serious. “Which is why we can’t do this without permission,” he said. “Yuuri, we will  _ literally _ burn up if we stay away from the stars for too long. It’s the price we pay for being what we are.” He rested a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I know sometimes it can be tempting, but you know better, after all this time. We can never go back to what we were. We can pretend for a while, but the stars will always call us home.”

“There’s nothing left for me on earth,” he said, shrugging off Yuri’s worry easily. “I’m not a new skater, my family and life is long gone.” He grinned over at Yuri. “My family isn’t on the ground.”

Yuri flushed at the implication, but looked pleased. “Alright, stop being a sap,” he huffed. “Let’s go get the old hag and get this vacation started.”

Mila’s home wasn’t far from theirs; at the moment, it was with a giant group of people, loud and filled with energy and it always seemed to be a party whenever anyone stopped by. She was still one of the more vibrant ones though.

Yuri made a face at the noise coming through the door as he banged on it; he didn’t want to wait around forever for her. “At least it’s  _ decent _ noise,” he muttered under his breath, causing Yuuri to muffle his laughter. “She’s with musicians this time and there aren’t any around here that would make shit sound  _ bad _ .”

“Aw, you’re being nice!” Mila swept out of a side door that neither one of them saw, beaming. “I should tell them you think they’re “decent”,” she laughed, ruffling his hair, a bag slung over her shoulders. “Well, are you coming? Minako gave you the card and money to blend in and live on earth?” They didn’t need to shop very often, but it was polite to at least keep up the pretense.

Yuri scowled and ducked out of reach of her hand, handing her a thin wallet that had all she needed to get by. “You don’t have to be with us the entire time,” he ordered. “You go do your thing and Yuuri and I will do ours.”

“Are you saying that you don’t want me around?” she asked, feigning hurt with one hand pressed her her chest. “You wound me, Yura,” she pouted, and then switched her attentions to Yuuri, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Yuuri wouldn’t abandon me, would you?” she asked.

Yuuri just laughed and returned the hug before pulling away. “I think we’re going to be in the same area,” he said carefully, “but working on different targets. We should at least keep each other aware of what we’re doing and...” he gave her a shy smile. “We could.. hang out? When we’re not working.”

“Oh, it’s so cute when you try to be casual,” she pinched his cheek. “At least you have a heart and won’t completely abandon poor, innocent me to the whims of humans.”

Yuri snorted at that, not even hiding his amazement. “Even when you were human, you could kick the ass of anyone you came across,” he said, giving her a disgusted look.

“But it’s fun to play the game,” she grinned. “Alright, let’s get rolling,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Minako is letting me cut loose as well. We’re all going to have a great time.”

Yuri just looked annoyed. “I am so going to find more people who can work music the same way Beka can,” he muttered. “That way the next trip, I can have him come along and someone else can compose music for the gods.”

“Oh, don’t be so mopey,” Mila rolled her eyes. “He won’t be able to stay the entire time, but you’ll see your precious friend down there eventually. I was  _ going _ to have it be a surprise, but you’re pouting so much already that I thought I’d tell you now.”

Yuri tried to hide his bright smile at the idea of being able to hang up with Beka like they were two normal teenagers, but it was impossible. Yuuri had lost count of the nights that Yuri would complain about how the gods would monopolize Otabek's time. They were close friends now and he'd heard the story of how Otabek had found him so often, that Yuuri had memorized it, embellishes and all. The most memorable one involved using Potya as a stand-in for Yuri, who had reacted in the way that Yuuri imagined the teenaged Yuri would have acted, hissing, clawing and trying to run away. It fit better than Yuri just deciding to leave his home and his accomplishments behind without a second thought.  _ Yuuri _ had been the one to jump in without thinking. 

It was what he had been wanting for awhile. Beka was to him like he was to Yuuri. Beka was the one that had taken him from the harsh reality of his life all those centuries ago, the way he had rescued Yuuri. Beka was his oldest and dearest friend and he couldn’t hide his ecstatic grin at being given this chance.

“Let’s just go,” he blustered. The sooner they got started, the sooner they could have fun and he could see Beka again.

Mila just laughed and ruffled his hair again, the stars spiraling outward beneath their feet, the clouds dipping around them, resembling a staircase. They couldn’t see the bottom, but they all knew what awaited them on the ground.

~

Mila had stayed only long enough to give them both hugs, before telling them to ‘not get in trouble’ and handing off the other gift for their sojourn on earth: mobile phones. “They can call back home and anyone on earth,” she beamed. “Javi is the one that tweaked the model for us. He’s so talented,” she sighed. “ _ So _ glad that I found him.”

“Yes, yes, you got another inventor under your belt,” Yuri rolled his eyes. But the invention was very convenient to keep in touch, and it wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen mobile phones before; Phichit had taken his with him and filmed and taken pictures during the short time he had spent with the stars. The difference was making it  _ literally  _ universal. They could have a lot more trips to the ground with these.

“Just remember to keep in touch with big sis!” She dodged out of Yuri’ fist easily. “Regular checkups from all of us will make sure we’re doing what we need to,” she said more seriously. “None of us has been on such a long trip before. I want to make sure that we’re all safe.”

Yuuri nodded, running a hand through his hair, hand shaking a little. He was excited to be doing this, but also uncertain at all the faith that Minako, and even the gods, had in him. There was a lot riding on this.

Yuri just rolled his eyes. “Yes, oh, doom and gloom,” he muttered. “Go on and have fun while it lasts,” he waved her off, grabbing Yuuri by the arm and dragging him off. “We’re going shopping.”

~

No one gave the two of them a second glance as they moved around the small store; the thumping rock music dissuaded most people from having a conversation, and the shelves were so close together that there was barely any space to move around without worrying about knocking over a stack of clothing. 

They were the only skaters in America this time. The others were in different parts of the world, getting ready to watch the various competitions that had a wide range of skaters, including newly minted Senior level skaters. There was a variety of potential to pick from or watch and guide, and the stars were spread out for the best results.

Yuuri was aware the clothing they had was painfully out of date. When he tried to recruit Phichit he hadn’t stayed long at all, but it was enough to realize that styles had changed once again. The older stars sometimes stuck to the style of the years they had died in, but Yuri was never that sort and if Yuuri was being honest, he hadn’t ever stuck to the traditional clothing either. Yuri was the one that bugged the newer skaters and constantly updated his wardrobe to match what was ‘cool’ at the time. Nothing would stop Yuri with the chance to get the street fashion that he said was “one of the only good reasons for coming to earth”.

“We are not going to spend our  _ entire _ time watching half-rate skaters, Yuuri,” Yuri threatened, halfway hidden behind a rack of leopard print clothing in a red so garish it should have been illegal. “Once we get out of here and get  _ you _ something decent to wear, we are going to actually have fun _. _ Visit that amusement park that’s nearby, get something to eat that isn’t the  _ literal _ food of the gods...”

“Pretend to be normal and act like the teenager you once were?” Yuuri teased, hiding a smile at Yuri’s latest acquisition; a tight black top with a mesh overlay of tiger stripes. With the dark, artfully ripped jeans and high tops, he was a combination of multiple decades at once. He could have been born in  _ this _ time, instead of the century he originally came from. “Are you going to buy out the entire store to replace your clothes back home?”

Yuri snorted, holding up a jacket in Yuri’s size. “I bet you could pull this off.” It was similar to half a dozen jackets that were hung up on the walls around the store; this one had leopard print sleeves and studs on the shoulder blades. Yuuri shuddered a little at trying to imagine himself into something so bold.

“… I’m also not sixteen anymore,” Yuuri pointed out, fidgeting a little. He was only a few human years older than Yuri was and sometimes could pass for younger than the age he had ‘died’ at. “I think I need something a little less flashy than what you have.” Still, he had always admired Yuri’s ability to pull off the trends of whatever decade they were in with ease, while he always felt a little out of place.

“Just don’t be completely boring,” Yuri rolled his eyes and grabbed the stuff he wanted, taking it to the counter in armfuls. “You’re not exactly an old man,” a wicked smirk tilted up the words, the teasing clear. “So you can live a little. Especially if we’re going to the rink and want to blend in. You dress up in a suit or something like that and the skaters won’t talk to you, and the coaches are going to think you’re trying to steal away their students.”

Yuri had a point. “Let’s just find something with a little less leather and animal print,” Yuuri grinned. “I’m sure I can find something that isn’t a total affront to your eyes.”

The clerk was a style all of her own, with hair dyed a rainbow of colors and wearing a man’s jacket and waistcoat over kitty print leggings and a neon green tutu.  _ I can’t even imagine what my family would have thought of what is being worn today. _ She was very obviously trying to listen into a language that she couldn’t even begin to understand, but she was giving Yuri an appraising look, approval in her eyes. “You can leave that stuff here,” she said, pointing to an empty spot on the counter, “if you want to buy more.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuri dumped his pile and grabbed Yuuri’s arm, dragging him further into the store, to the back where all the weird t-shirts were laid out in neat piles. Yuuri gave in and looked at the jeans, finally finding a pair of dark washed colors without any rips, when he heard Yuri laughing next to him. “I found the best shirt for you,” he said, grinning wide and holding up a plain black shirt with something in silver writing.

Yuuri laughed as well, taking the shirt in his hands. “Alright, you win this one,” he said. “We’ll start with this and then work our way around to something that is a little  _ more _ subtle.” It would fit right in with the ice rink, that was for certain. A shirt with “I wear knife shoes and know how to use them” wasn’t something he ever thought he would wear, and only in private would he admit how much he liked it.

They found a couple more shirts that Yuuri decided to add to his own pile, while Yuri grabbed a jacket that was an an eye-smarting shade of pink to go with his earlier choices. “I am  _ so _ going to skate to one of Otabek’s songs in this,” he beamed. “I’ve got the best idea for it.”

Yuuri didn’t even ask if it was for a request of a set of stars; this one would be an entirely different request, one that was to inspire from the ground on up. Yuri did best with the flashy skates, ones that made people want to emulate him. Whenever they had a project on the ground, Yuri was off making some sort of commotion with not only Otabek’s music, but some sort of routine that was just shy of being impossible to do.

“We’ll get a rink and time to skate,” Yuuri shrugged. It wasn’t ever very hard at all to get skating time; they could slip in as if they were part of a coach’s normal skaters and no one would ever remember them afterwards. They never had a problem. “Let’s just get to the rink to watch the skaters.” He held up a couple of passes. “Show’s about to start.”

~

The smell of ice was sharp and familiar as they walked down the steps to the front of the rink. No matter where they were, rinks were almost always the same. A wide expanse of cleared ice with a bite in the air that stung the lungs. The stars weren’t affected by the cold anymore, but the memory of what rinks were like lingered and Yuuri breathed in deep, feeling the cold try to settle in his lungs. It was like coming home. The bleachers were half filled with people; it was only a low-level competition, unlike the Grand Prix that would come in a few months later. These competitions were the best way to assess the potential of a skater; for stars, sponsors and the premium coaches.

Still, it didn’t mean the skaters didn’t have their loyal fans; people that traveled all over the country or the world just to see their favorite skater on the ice. Yuuri gave a quick glance to see the banners or signs, but only one was visible and that was for a skater from Switzerland, the first one up for the competition today. He was a little disappointed that Phichit wasn’t at this competition; he wanted to see how he was doing and how much he had improved. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t have time to visit him, but it would have been nice to see him and ask him his opinions of who he thought was a good fit. Phichit  _ noticed _ things, and any insight of the skater on the ground could be valuable.

Judging by the short time he knew him, he was funny and sincere and someone that Yuuri had warmed up to immediately. It would be a regret not to have him in the stars.  _ Sometimes there are second chances.  _ It wasn’t often, but there could be a moment in time where Phichit fulfilled his dreams on earth and joined the skaters in the stars.

The generic music overhead, coming through dimly on ancient speakers, looped around for a third time as the last few skaters in the first group were finishing up on the ice. A few caught his eye and Yuuri leaned forward, expression intent. Christophe Giacometti had a great deal of potential: there was a shine around him drew the eye. It wasn’t necessarily for skating, but there was a talent there that could be exploited. Whether it was to be cultivated on earth or among the stars needed further examination. He was so completely caught up in his examination that he didn’t notice that Yakov Feltsman sitting next to him, until the old coach waved a hand in front of his face, his expression set in a deep scowl.

“You are not to take Vitya,” he said, arms crossed over his chest once he had Yuuri’s attention. “He is too young to be snatched away by some foolish star that thinks he can do better away from me.”

Yuuri blinked at him. He wasn’t surprised that Yakov still remembered, but he had been the last person that he had expected to see. “Victor isn’t even skating here,” he said blankly. “What are you doing here? None of your skaters are in America. We checked before we came.” He didn’t even question Yakov knowing about the stars; he had once been a recruit himself when he was younger.

Yuri hunched down on his seat, pushing his sunglasses on the top of his head. “There’s been a change of skaters for this performance,” he muttered, handing Yuuri a program and trying his hardest to ignore Yakov. “Apparently, instead of skating in France, Victor Nikiforov has been moved to America instead.” He smirked a little. “Isn’t it  _ awesome _ the universe is just putting him in your path?”

Victor wasn’t out on the ice with the other skaters, but that didn’t mean anything; he might be in a later group. The young skater wasn’t near the level he needed to be to become a star, even if he was already amazingly talented; a prodigy and jumping into higher brackets as soon as he got the clearance to do so. To take him away now would be a mistake, even if the stars were lined up for it, which Yuuri didn’t sense. There was something else that Victor had to accomplish before the stars claimed him.

Yuuri turned back to Yakov. “I didn’t even know Victor was going to be here,” he said. “We were checking… other avenues.” He wasn’t bold enough to say they were scouting for other stars; Yakov obviously wasn’t oblivious to the reason why they were there.

“So you can steal away another country’s hope, all for some foolish arena that no one can see, where no one can learn?” He kept his voice low, even if it was America, there was an off chance that someone sitting nearby would understand what they were saying. His voice was tight with rage and Yuuri flushed, wanting to voice a denial, but Yuri leaned over him, coming to the rescue.

He glared at Yakov. “You never came to join us,” he snapped. He was still bitter about it; the tone of his voice spoke volumes, even though it had been more years than one could count up in the heavens since Yakov had refused the position. “You have no idea what we learn and how we grow. You’re not the only authority that can teach skaters. We have teachers in the stars as well.”

“More people you steal,” Yakov huffed crossly. “At least I don’t live with my head in the clouds and encourage others to do the same thing,” Yakov fired back, face turning red. “Your kind is responsible for a number of people going missing. It is not the age that you lived in, where a few unknowns vanishing wouldn’t be remarked upon. Now there are people that are missed, holes that are left,  _ especially _ in world class figure skaters that are barely of an age to realize the consequences of the decisions you put in front of them!”

Yuuri gave him an exasperated look, gaining back his momentum and continuing the conversation with Yakov before Victor appeared from whatever backroom he was in. “We give choices and we test the skaters,” he said seriously. “Your skater isn’t in any danger from us. He’s going to be amazing, that’s why we watch him.” His gaze went out the ice, imagining Victor dancing across the ice with a complicated routine. “You’re right, he’s set to do a lot more here; inspiring and growing and learning. There are so many people that are filled with the expectations of what he can do.” He shrugged. “We’re not idiots. We’re not going to take a skater that still has the chance to make a difference on earth.”

“There are other talents that we’re looking out for, old man.” Yuri slouched back in his seat, looking exactly like an insolent teenager. “Your student isn’t the only one that can do shit on this planet.” They couldn’t tell Yakov the real reason they were here, even if he would figure it out eventually. Treating this as just a normal scouting mission would make Minako’s real job for them a little less bizarre.

Yakov was calming down now that he wasn’t going to be battling for the custody of Victor, staring at Yuri with a bemused look. Yuri appearing and looking much as he did from when he was a young man had thrown him off track for a moment. “You are not much different than I remember you being,” he said, “and still so different from how I would have thought a young man from so long ago would act.”

“The actual stars don’t change, but if skaters don't, we break,” Yuuri shrugged. “Just like anything in the world, you bend with the changes. Staying stagnant and stiff only causes more problems.” He grinned. “Yura fits in uncommonly well though, doesn’t he?”

“Just like any problem child in Russia these days,” Yakov snorted. “He looks just like them with the wild clothes.” He eyed Yuuri. “You are also not what I expected you to be, with all of Vitya’s gushing over you. Tell me, were you taken when Vitya first saw you?” he asked, curious now. “He remembers both of you.” He frowned back at Yuri. “You talk of potential and people gaining inspiration, but you know that this young man could have inspired a lot of people as well. There are not so many Japanese skaters that you could take one away and not leave an impact.”

Yuuri laughed, shaking his head at the assumption before Yuri could yell at Yakov again. “No — it’s been more than a century on earth since I became a star,” he said. “Figure skating wasn’t even nationally recognized when Yuri found me; I was skating alone in a pond in northern Japan. There was no one to inspire except those in the stars.”

Yakov looked as if he wanted to respond again, but a loud buzzing noise echoed throughout the arena, signaling the end of practice and the start of the first program. “I need to go to my other skater,” he muttered, “but do not think this means this conversation is finished.” He pointed a finger at the two of them. “I will be watching you to make sure you don’t interfere with what is mine.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared of an old man with a balding spot big enough to reflect light,” Yuri muttered once Yakov was gone. “It’s not like he could stop us if he really were determined to steal your little infatuation away.”

“He’s not an infatuation and I’m not going to steal him,” Yuuri rolled his eyes, barely focused on the skater that was up. Young, not very ambitious and looked like they were just having fun at the competition. It wasn’t fair, but this skater wasn’t a potential on their list, even if they could grow at a later time. “He just… there is something that draws me to him and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“You’re infatuated,” Yuri repeated, tone bored. “It’s not a big deal. As long as he doesn’t completely fuck up after he grows into his talent, you can snatch him up and make sappy faces at him for all of eternity, just as long as you don’t forget how to skate.”

Yuuri gave him a horrified look, tuning into the skating long enough to give an absent-minded clap. “Yura, I would never!” he protested. “You know me,” he said, more serious now. “Even with all of the skaters we are friends with, have I ever strayed from my skating or shown an interest in someone else?”

“No, and that’s just weird,” Yuri huffed. “Get laid or something like Minako said.”

“Why don’t you set the example?” Yuuri shot back, face red. “I told you, I don’t care about that sort of thing. I just...” he made a helpless gesture. “I just want…” He didn’t have words for it, there  _ were _ no words, as far as he knew. “Just drop it for right now, Yura. We have to play nice with Yakov eventually so he doesn’t raise a giant fuss over us being here.” He couldn’t say their true purpose without sounding crazy, but there were other ways to stymie their way and make it harder for them to observe and set the stage.

“Yeah, yeah — we get to pretend to be  _ ordinary _ skaters while you try and keep that kid from realizing what your real plans for him are,” Yuri huffed, but smiled faintly as he shoved Yuuri. 

Yuuri made a face back, but couldn’t explain that he just wanted to see Victor; wanted to see him skate and to get to know  _ him _ . It was silly, and likely would never amount to anything; even if Victor became a star, the gods would surely want someone who shone so early to be a prime skater and to create entire systems just for them. Still, he could imagine skating beside Victor; sharing a love of skating and dance, reaching out to people and seeing their smiles at something that was unique, a dance and a song created with their skills in skating.

Yuuri couldn’t put his finger on exactly what he saw in Victor Nikiforov, but all he knew was that it wasn’t infatuation. What it was remained to be seen. He would just have to keep watching Victor to figure out what it was.

Luckily, he would have ample time on the ground to push Victor towards the right direction.

~

There was another hour of skating, some of it good, some of it mediocre before Victor’s group skated out. Even though he was debuting in his senior run, he was lucky enough to be in the second to last group of skaters for the competition.

Yuuri sat up a little straighter when he skated around the rink, and even Yuri looked intrigued; he could see the potential around him as well.

“Maybe this won’t be a total loss,” Yuri said, but his jaw dropped when Victor’s gaze met their own and the skater promptly tripped over his skates and went sprawling on the ice.

“Shit, Yuuri — you didn’t say he was a complete airhead,” Yuri leaned over the edge of the rink, a little concerned. Nothing seemed to be broken and Victor was only flushed with embarrassment as one of the other skaters helped him up.

“I think he recognized us,” Yuuri said, almost as red as Victor. “I… know we forgot to bend the perception around us, but I didn’t think he remembered us from that long ago, either.” He rubbed at his nose, bending the perception around him as he talked. When Victor came around the next time, he looked straight at them and the disappointment on his face was obvious.

“Huh. You must have made quite the impression,” Yuri snickered. “I think he had a crush on you. Remember to let him down gently when you tell him that you’re far too old for him.” He leaned back in his seat, expression intent on the mini routines that the skaters were running through.

“I am  _ not _ going to hit on a kid or let him hit on me,” Yuuri hissed under his breath, hoping no one overheard them. “I am just seeing what he can do.”

“He sure thinks so,” Yuri got in one last dig, before focusing on Victor. “Other than that fall where you scared the hell out of him, he’s… actually good. Maybe you are right about him.” There was an elegance about his movements that spoke of a dance background, more than likely ballet. He wasn’t the youngest, but it was clear he had waited to debut in the Seniors category until he was certain he could exceed his peers.

“Well, he’s not showing off for some mysterious skaters he saw almost a decade ago,” Yuuri huffed. “He’s going to show off for the crowd now.” He rested his chin in his hands as he watched the final rounds before all but one skater was left. “Let’s see what several years of hard work and the promise of the stars has done for Victor Nikiforov. “

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is first and foremost a friendship fic, a family fic. The pairing side of it will be heavily downplayed as in all my fics, so I'm sorry if you're looking for epicness I'm that. I'm a friendshipper lolol and I love the idea if the connection all of them share. That being said, the end game with this one will be Viktor and Yuuri


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